The Bird with a Broken Wing
by TARDIS-elf
Summary: Abby Brandon goes to Comic-Con with only one goal in mind: go crazy. She bites off a little more than she can chew when she stands up to an invader: Loki of Asgard. Thrown into a whirlwind of secret agents and devious plots, Abby sets her own goals with nothing but her sass and sarcasm to defend her. Rated T for violence. Writing gets better as you go along. CLICK:)
1. Of Comic-Cons and Captains

**I own nothing. Everything belongs to Marvel except OC's. PLEASE EXCUSE THE TERRIBLE WRITING. I WAS YOUNG I WAS FOOLISH. IT GETS BETTER. To my wonderful viewers: You may find some references to other TV shows, movies, or books. This is intentional. Enjoy the Easter Eggs!**

I've always been sort of dramatic. In effect, my policy has always been that if I'm going to go down, I'm going to go down with a show. It's pretty silly, I know. And, truth be told, my story will probably end sooner than most because of it. But if you want to understand my reasoning, think of it like this: in your favorite TV show, you have your favorite character. If that character dies while the show is still running, you cry and remember. And, if not, well then, who cares? I guess it all boils down to wanting to be remembered in the long run.

So, I suppose all this begins at Comic-con, New York. There are nearly ten thousand people filling the halls. All the fandoms have collided in a massive atomic explosion of geeks and nerds. After a long day of meshing, it's time to go. There's only one issue. We can't. We've been locked in. We're kept from the outside. Who knows why?

A few people are freaking out, wondering what's happening to them and why. Some don't seem to think that there's anything wrong and are complaining about how they need to go to work tomorrow and can't afford to be kept in late. And then there are the nerds who are absolutely ecstatic and positive that their hour of heroism has come. I have my own confusions, of course. But I'm just a wallflower, content to watch the bewildered world continue in madness. I don't have much of a right to join in any of these groups.

The power goes out. People freeze and the noise that generally comes with a crowd vanishes in an instant. There is only one light, like a spotlight, and it is focused around a very recognizable villain.

Loki of Asgard invaded quite some time ago. I don't know all of the details as I was in Europe at the time, but apparently he brought about mass destruction in a small New Mexico town. And he doesn't have a problem killing people. I honestly do feel I will be threatened with death now.

"Humanity!" He addresses us in a loud, booming voice. "Look how far you've fallen!"

Yes it seems that a life threat is inevitable.

"You huddle together in the dark like beasts!"

I am most likely going to go down now. I might as well go out with a bang as planned.

"I am Loki of Asgard!"

As if we didn't know that.

"I am your king! Kneel! Kneel before me!"

Even the nerds who had every hope of saving the day obey him. I mean, this is sort of shocking. They're not even putting up a fight. What a bunch of backboneless babies! If I were in their shoes I wouldn't-

"You!" I look up to see Loki staring me in the eye. "Why do you not kneel?"

"Why should I? It's a stupid command," I retort. It was the first thing I was thinking. And honesty is the best policy. However, my whole "going down epically" plan is not really going my way.

"Stupid?" Ok, wow, he's… got this accent. Sounds British but isn't quite.

"Yeah, stupid. I mean, seriously, you take control of a minimum of eight thousand people and the first thing you want them to do is kneel, rendering them completely useless. So, yes, it is stupid, and I don't care if you mind my saying so."

He lifts his head ever so slightly, perhaps so he can look down his nose at me. "What is your name, Mid-guardian?" he asks with obvious disgust.

I look around. "Oh, now, see, I'm not really sure if your ears are worthy enough to hear my name." A-ha! See, there is the epicness I was looking for!

"What is your name?!" His anger is clearly bubbling over.

I glare at him, annoyed. "My name is Abby Brandon, Mr. Mischief, and I have to admit that you're not off to a great start with this whole 'hostile takeover thing.' See, if I was in your shoes, I would go with a sort of Stockholm Syndrome thing. Earn our respect. But evidently you don't have the brains to put that together. Or, y'know, anything respectable about you."

He scrutinizes me and announces with casualness, "Tell me, Abby Brandon. Why should I not just kill you?"

"Because I'm a civilian, and murdering me wouldn't be very respectable. And now I must leave. As much as I would _love_ to see the birth of a nation, I cannot. I'll be very busy tomorrow. I've got places to go and people to see, you get the drill. Ta-ta!" I turn to find Captain America staring at me like I've just grown horns. I brush past him saying, "Excuse me."

I stumble over a few people who are absolutely petrified with fear. Then I trip over some guy's hand. In mid-fall, I find myself no longer falling. I try to move at all, but I can't. I'm frozen like a statue. Am I dead? No. Is this some sort of magic? Probably, and if there's anyone who would be able to do magic, an otherworldly villain would be my candidate.

After some time, and what I understand to be a fight between the famed Avenger and the notorious Asgardian, I move. However, it is not of my own will. I am still stuck in the same position. Apparently, I am _being_ moved. By Loki, I gather, for I see Captain America sprawled across the floor unconscious. Luckily, he is still breathing and doesn't appear to be incredibly damaged. I had wanted to observe the condition of the Captain further, but the doors slam in my face.

I'm in a vacant hall. Loki comes to the front of me and with a snap of his fingers my fall is completed.

"And now you are finally where you always should've been. In the end, you will always kneel."

I scramble to my feet. "What do you want from me?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Abby, haven't you been listening? I want from you what I want from everyone. I want your allegiance."

"You want to strip me of everything I am entitled to as an American. You expect me to side with that?"

"I expect you to consider your options. I expect you to understand that my side is the winning one."

"Why do you care? I'm one person out of billions. Why does it matter to you what I believe in?

He begins to circle me. "You're different, Abby. You're clearly not very bright, but you're brave. More than brave, I imagine. There is a war coming. And wars are built on people like you. Stupidly courageous people. The kind of people that become leaders. I want you to help me."

That is very tempting. Not. I pause as though considering his offer. "Uh, yeah, no thank you."

He stops. "No?" He is clearly taken aback. "You are trapped with no escape, you have tempted my wrath, I have offered you a way to reconcile and not only that. I have offered you a position of power, and your answer is no?"

"This is a simple concept, Mr. Mischief, so try to get it through your teeny, tiny brain. To you I'm an interesting subject rather than something worth actual investment. A bird with a broken wing, if you will. That makes me disposable, and I don't well like the sound of that. Now, I would like to exit, if you please."

I walk casually to the door, noticing that everyone is gone. Odd. The door is locked as I anticipated.

It takes some time for Loki to follow me. "You expect me to simply let you go?"

"No," I say as I push harder against the door. "I expect you to consider your options."

In six seconds the door opens and, once again, I take a tumble. Loki doesn't say a word, but merely spins on his heel and leaves.

I can go right now if I like, but there is one more thing I have to do. Now, I can tell you from personal experience that dragging Captain America's body around and buckling him into your car is not as easy as it looks.

It is a long and tedious drive home. I change the radio station at least five times before deciding to turn it off entirely. I steal the occasional glance over to Steve Rodgers who is still out cold. It's kind of disturbing seeing him slumped over like that. If I didn't know any better, I would say he's dead. However, I know that that's not the case. I can see that he's breathing.

When I return home, it's midnight. I almost leave the Captain in the car. I almost want to. I live on the top floor of the small but tidy apartment complex. I have to get him to the very top. If I thought getting him into the car was hard…

I try to defeat the awkwardness by complaining about everything that makes the task difficult. Oh, for Pete's sake! Who am I kidding? There is nothing within the power of human kind that could make this any less weird.

When I reach the top, needless to say, I'm out of breath. After gulping down a large glass of water, I tend as best I can to the large gash on the Captain's forehead. All I can really do is clean it and hope that it heals. But, man, can he sleep like a rock! He didn't even flinch when I used the hydrogen peroxide!

Afterwards, I push him onto the bed and try to make him comfortable. Then I make myself comfortable (or at least try to) on the couch. After just a few minutes, I doze off with hardly a second thought to the events of the night.

The next morning, I wake up wondering why I'm sleeping where I am. Then it all comes flooding back to me. The Comic-con, Loki, Captain America. Yes, I remember all too well. Anyway, I had better wake the Captain. Soon enough, the Avengers are gonna come looking for him and I don't want that mess at my house. I drag myself off the couch and into my room. I grab Steve's shoulder and shake him violently due to his uninterrupted sleep last night.

"Steve, wake up. C'mon, Steve, you've got to get back. Wake up, Steve. Wake up!"

He moans and runs his hand over his face as he opens his eyes. As soon as he recognizes that he doesn't recognize me or the place he's in, he is all too awake. He lays somewhere around one million questions on me.

"Who are you? Where am I? What am I doing here? What happened?"

I try to calm him. "Settle down, okay? My name is Abby Brandon. This is my house. You fought with Loki last night and got hurt. I brought you here. Everything's fine."

He inhales and exhales deeply, calming down. "Alright… Yeah, I remember now. What about Loki? Did he get away?"

I nod my head. "Unfortunately, but for now everything's fine. Listen, everything is open to you. Go take care of yourself. Get some breakfast. I don't really mind. Just whatever you're going to do, please do it quickly because soon your friends are gonna come looking for you"

He nods his head and practically leaps out of bed. I'm surprised at his energy considering last night and the fact that he just woke up, but, when you're in the Army then an Avenger, I guess you have to get used to it.

There's a knock on the door. "I'll get that. Why don't you get something to eat?"

"Thanks."

I walk to the door, sort of embarrassed that I'm still in my pajamas.

When I open the door, a colored man with an eye patch stands before me. "Captain Nick Fury, ma'am."

He is interrupted by Iron Man breaking down the door and pinning me to the ground. "Where is he and what've you done with him?! Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about because-"

"Stark, leave the civilian alone."

I push him off of me. "Yeah, Stark. And just for your information, you can pay for that door with your billionaire-ness." I jump to my feet.

"Ma'am, we're interested in the whereabouts of Captain America or Steve Rogers. We traced him as far as here and-"

At that moment, Steve walks in with a bowl of cereal. "Hey, Abby, where do you keep the…" He sees them and freezes in his tracks.

"Gentlemen," I announce sarcastically, "it appears you've caught me."

Captain Fury speaks again, but this time in apology. "We're very sorry, ma'am. Thank you for your trouble."

I shake my head. "No trouble, except the door, so…" I glare at Stark.

"Uh, yeah. Real sorry 'bout that. I'll send you a check."

"And I'll hold you to that," I tell him seriously.

Steve forces a smile onto his face. "We'll be going now." Oh man, he is so embarrassed! It makes me feel guilty to think it, but this is actually kind of funny. No, not kind of: really funny. He begins to literally push them out the door, or at least what remains of it. He glances over his shoulder. "Thanks again!"

"No problem!" I answer in a sing-song voice.

After a lengthy breakfast, I feel uneasy and sort of ill. I doubt I'll be able to go to work. I call in sick, because I honestly do feel very sick now. Most people would say that I ate something that didn't agree with my stomach. I doubt that. I believe it's this: I am just now beginning to understand the danger I was in last night.

I could've died! I am such an idiot. It wouldn't have been dramatic in the least.

Yet, somehow, I'm still alive to remember my near-death experience. Why did Loki keep me alive? By rights, I shouldn't even be here. If things had gone differently but I managed to pull through alive, I would and should be in captivity. Not only did Loki spare my life, but he also freed me. I don't know if you would call that mercy, but from first-hand experience, I don't know what else you would call it. It may sound juvenile, but I think that there's a heart underneath that thick skin. Now, I'm not saying that he's right or sane. I'm just saying that nobody's that heartless.

**As I said, I was young and foolish. But I do love where this story is going, and I hope you will, too. Til next time -TARDIS-elf**


	2. Life Debt

**If you are reading this, you clearly liked the first chapter enough to continue. So, thank you! If you would review it would mean ever so much to me. Thank you! That is all. Proceed.**

Anyway, the next day, I am completely recovered from whatever it is I "had."

I take the subway to work every day. It's a lot more convenient for me. The station is always bustling with the strangest characters, but if you go there as often as I do, you'll get used to it. There's little that surprises me anymore. Especially since Loki took over the Comic-con and Captain America ate cereal in my kitchen.

I'm familiar with a good number of people who are simply always at the station. You call it loitering. I also call it loitering. They call it staying comfortable in one place while strangers randomly offer them money. Nice people, though. They probably know more about me than I know about myself. I settle in next to Dorcas a friendly (for just seriously lack of a better term) loiterer.

"Ooh, Abby. Where were you yesterday? We wanted to hear about the Comic-con."

Another elderly loiterer named Simon leans in and speaks up. "Don't you know anything, woman? That silly Asjaramin attacked."

"Oh, I know that, Simon. Hush up. I want to hear it from her."

"We know all we need to. Fogi attacked and left no one breathing."

Alfred, an aged African American, starts to talk. "Well that's clearly not true, because she's sitting right there. Pay up." Simon growls a bit but picks up two quarters from the hat in front of him and hands them to Alfred.

Dorcas flaps her frail hands to silence them. "So, tell us, how'd it go?"

"No one breathing!" Simon halfway shouts.

I smirk. "Then I wonder where they get the stories from." I begin my tale. I leave out the unnecessary details as my train is almost due, but I manage to get in the whole story from Loki's attack to Iron Man's invasion.

Soon enough, my train arrives and I board leaving them each with five bucks.

Work is boring, boring, boring, boring, and more boring as usual. Time to go home. I get home. I eat. I sleep. You get the picture. My whole life has been: boring. The only thing that made it remotely interesting was the Comic-Con and now I might be too scared to go back. Thanks a lot, Fogi of Asjaram! I will admit that I had to work hard to contain my laughter at that.

The next morning starts off as any other. I go to the station and buy my ticket, but not long after that, I find a filthy hand pressed over my mouth. Before I can even make a useless attempt at screaming, the thug drags me into an alley and holds a switchblade close to my gut.

"Give me your wallet!" he demands. I find myself in yet another life-threatening situation. There is no way I am acting stupid this time.

"Okay, l-let me just…" I slip my purse off of my shoulder and dig around with frantic hands. I know I put it in there. Where could it…

After letting off a string of curses, the thug again exclaims, "Give me your wallet!"

A sharp intake of breath from the thief causes me to delay my journey for the missing wallet and look up. He's been stabbed from behind by heaven knows what. Who is his murderer? Loki, who else?

"Where… How… What are you doing here?"

"Well, I believe I just saved your life. Again."

I roll my eyes. "I had it sorted."

"Yes, I can tell by the way you were trembling."

I huff and look down to the body slowly leaking blood at my feet. "Oh my soul. He's dead! You killed him!" I exclaim as I step away.

"Where you would you be if I hadn't? Either dead or penniless. I'm going to guess it would be the former, but neither prospect is very pleasant."

"Wait. Just wait. Hold on. How did you know I was in trouble?"

"Well, I heard your call for help and…"

"I didn't call for help."

He looks embarrassed and just really sheepish. I gasp as I realize that, "You've been stalking me!"

"What? No! What a ridiculous…"

"It wasn't a question. How long has this been going on?"

Loki stares down at me blankly. "Three days."

"Three days? Okay," I take a deep slow breath. "Wow, um…" I consider snatching my phone out of my purse to call the cops but decide against it.

He steps in closer and smiles like a hunter closing in on his prey. "Are you frightened, Abby?"

"No."

He chuckles menacingly.

What am I doing standing around? The only thing to do is run before this psycho kills me too. I try to dash down the alley, but before I can, he grabs my arm.

"Not so fast. The way I see it, I just saved your life. So now, I believe you owe me a life debt."

I stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

He smiles evilly. "You owe me your life. Can I make it any clearer?"

I look all about me, I don't know what for. Maybe I'm searching for a lawyer to butt in and tell him he's wrong. "But…"

He holds a finger to his lips. "Ah. Ah. Hush. Now, did I save your life: yes or no?"

"Yes."

"So, do you owe me your life: yes or no?"

"Yes," I grumble.

"So, now you are going to follow me instead of the opposite."

**Next time, we'll see how Abby adjusts to this recent development. Give me your thoughts! Let me know what should happen next! Keep rolling to chapter three! I'll have chapter 4 out sooner than you think!**

**Easter Egg: "Then I wonder where the stories come from." Pirates of the Carribean**

**Easter Egg 2: "I had it sorted." - Peter Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian)**


	3. America, the Beautiful

I really have no choice in the matter. My whole "he has a heart" theory kind of went down with the fact that he killed everyone in the Comic-Con except yours truly. "Very well," I say giving up the fight.

He seems a bit disappointed with my answer. He exits the alley with me trailing behind him. He starts towards the exit of the station. I spy Dorcas, Simon, and Alfred sitting in their usual spots. They seem confused with my actions, except Simon who just looks annoyed. I feel bad that I can't explain to them why I can't sit and talk today.

Once we leave the station, I turn to Loki and inquire, "Where are we going?"

"Well, if you are wanting me to reveal the location of my headquarters, I'll have you know I'm not that foolish. However, I will supply you with a general location: Germany."

"Wait, what? How do you plan to get us there? Please tell me you have some weird teleportation device."

Loki holds an unfathomable expression. "I'm afraid not." However, something tells me he doesn't mind at all.

"So how do you intend to get us there?"

"Well, the point is to attract as little attention to ourselves as possible. You have a passport. So, we are flying."

"Oh, so not only have you been stalking me, but you've also been checking my personal records."

Loki rolls his eyes. "No, of course I did not. That would be foolish and a waste of my time."

"Oh."

"I had Agent Barton do it."

I shoot him an offended look.

"Oh, never mind. Hail a cab."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, is that not how it's said?"

"No, I mean, yes. It's just that…"

"Hail. A. Cab." So after some time a cab is hailed. We get in with no consideration to the "ladies first" rule. I instruct the taxi driver to drive us to the airport.

"So, I know how I'm going to get to Germany. I have my passport and enough money to get me there and back again, but I don't know how you're going to get there. I want to know how you even plan on getting on the plane."

Loki just stares out the window. "I have my methods." His grip on his staff tightens.

"Oh, no, tell me you're not going to impale anyone else."

He briefly glances over his shoulder at me, but then continues to look out the window. "I'm not all blood and gore, Abigail. And this staff is capable of much more than bringing about pain."

"My name is Abby," I mumble.

The rest of the road is silent. I'm actually really grateful because of that fact. The more Loki talks, the more I have to worry about what he's going to do next.

We reach the airport. I speak to the driver. "How much do I owe you?"

"Forty-five."

I pull out my wallet which has suddenly decided to appear.

"Never mind," growls Loki. He grabs my arm and runs with me like I'm a football with legs. When we're deep inside the building, he stops and lets go of me, sending me tumbling to the ground. I stand up and look him in the eye before slapping him across the face.

I point an accusing finger at him. "Don't ever do that again." I start to brush myself off. "Shaw," I whisper using my dads favorite word. He ripped my favorite skirt.

Loki had been taken aback by my hand across that pwecious wittle face of his, however he was fully recovered now, and mad."Excuse me? I give the orders."

"Oh, yeah? Well, Mr. Mischief, there's something you should know. This is the modern world: where I live and you don't. This is _my_ division. And the jokes on you, 'cuz I didn't bring my passport. Ha!"

Loki grins, reaches into his jacket, and produces the passport in question. I take it from him, bewildered. He begins to laugh.

I stare at it a while. "How did you get this?"

Through his laughter he manages to say, "I retrieved it when I was following you about."

It's not funny. It is, in fact, the opposite of funny. However, I can't help but to giggle just a bit. "C'mon, I've got to get my first ticket."

"Don't you mean your only ticket? Don't you understand that you're not coming back?"

Any brief moment of happiness has vanished. "What?"

"Say farewell to your beloved country, Abigail, You'll never see it again."

The next few moments are a haze. I hear Loki say, "Next flight to Germany." A brief mumble then he says, "She's fine." I want to protest this horrendously false statement, but I feel so confused that I can't even talk. I go through security which takes so much shorter with no luggage. Loki leads me over to a chair and forces me to sit. Then my surroundings darken.

When I come back to my senses, it's dark and Loki still sits looking bored. I speak the first stupid thing that comes into my mind. "But I don't even know German."

Loki chuckles then announces, "You snore."

I think I must be going crazy. I just laughed at two things my kidnapper said. Of course, technically he's not kidnapping me. However, he is a murderer. I never thought I'd ever be in a situation like this. I have to relocate myself to a different country with a villainous murderer to whom I am indebted. My life constantly hangs on a thread and I laugh. Yep, if you ever need something to describe "insane," I'm your girl.

He and I spend the rest of the time at the airport making small talk. He tells me about his brother who appears to hate with every fiber in his being, and his mother who he appeared to have loved very dearly. I tell him about my large family in Texas. It's strange and terrifying to think that I'll never see them again.

The sun has nearly risen. It is now necessary to make my daily nerdy remark. "A red sun rises," I announce with fake soberness, "Blood has been spilled this night." I laugh for the third time at his confused face.

Our flight is announced over the loud speaker. Well, this is it. The whole thing seems dark, unfamiliar, and foreboding, despite the fact that I was here just over a year ago. This will be the last time I board a plane. This will be the last time I set foot on my country. It's hard to let it all go. I shuffle through the gray tunnel wondering how things could possibly go up from here.

Loki and I take our seats. I look out the window to my last glimpse of American soil. My life here has been tedious, but now that I'm saying goodbye, I don't want to leave it behind.

"Can I tell you something?"

Loki sighs, "I suppose."

"I've always wanted to re-establish myself somewhere. I've wanted to go out there and do something I love and turn it into a success."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I'm just a bird with a broken wing, and I can't fly."

"Well, you're welcome."

I turn to look at him. "Excuse me? I think you missed the 'do something I love' bit. I didn't ever say that I appreciate this. In fact, I hate it. Take people's lives into consideration before you ruin them."

Loki opens his mouth to say something.

"Forget it, Loki. There's no way you can justify this." I shed a single tear as the plane leaves the ground.

**I would _love_ your help now. Germany comes up next. I don't know about you, but I'm excited! YAY! Thank you to my wonderful reviewer, and to my lovely two favorite-ers and followers! Remember, reviews help me write faster! :D ~TARDIS-elf**

**Easter Egg: "A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night." -Legolas (Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers)**


	4. After 24 Hours

Germany: I've waited for too long. It's torture. My life has ended already. The only difference between my situation and the situation of one in the grave is that my heart is beating. I'm seated next to a man who is a murderer and the one to whom I am indebted. He's the closest thing to a friend that I have and yet it seems that a stranger could be closer. Then it hits me. Loki practically _is_ a stranger and I'm letting him take me to a foreign country to stay! I guess I owe it to him, but I seriously don't know why I decided to go through with this whole "honorable" arrangement. I'm a slave to a villain. I don't know why he chooses to drag out my life. I don't know why I even still _want_ to stay alive. It feels like I should just give up. However, I'm holding on. I don't know what it is I'm holding on to. Maybe it's the hope that somehow things will be brighter in the end.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the plane will be landing in twelve minutes." The announcement is repeated in German.

I brush back the tears which have watered my face the entire eight hours of the flight. Whoever is awaiting us here, it won't do for them to see me in pieces. They'll think of me as some sort of insecure and helpless teenager. No, I have to stay strong.

We exit the plane with Loki literally pushing me from behind. It was most ungentlemanly. And the pushing continues until we are outside the airport.

I stare at him hoping that the fact that I am unimpressed is evident on my face. "Rude." He rolls his eyes then pulls out a small strip of black cloth. "What is that?"

"In simple terms, it's a blindfold."

I raise my eyebrows. "Okay, why?"

"In simple terms, I don't trust you to keep the location of my headquarters a secret. If you see where it is, you know the location. If you know the location, you can reveal it to my adversaries, specifically the Avengers and my blonde, bumbling brother, he who stole from me the throne of Asgard and banished me. So…blindfold."

"You know, that is fascinating, really. But I regret to inform you that I will not be wearing that." Without another word, Loki wraps it tightly around my head. "Again, just very rude."

Loki sighs and grabs my wrist. At least, I think it's him. He begins to pull me through the maze of people. I'm just making a wild guess here, but I'm pretty sure that a lot of them are staring.

"Please don't tell me we're walking to your stupid…"

Loki clamps his hand over my mouth. "No, we're not." I hear the click of a door opening. He tries to pull me into the vehicle, but the idiot forgot that there's a curb. I trip and bang my nose on the car… cab... helicopter… whatever it is.

"Ouch! I think you broke my nose!"

"Oh dear, my bad," says Loki.

"I can feel you smiling," I say through my teeth. Now, Loki carefully leads me into the car by pushing my head down and probably messing up my hair which probably didn't look too good anyway. I think we're moving now. I carefully count the entire sixty-five minutes there. Now, if any of Loki's adversaries ask, I can say how far away the headquarters are.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt stop. Loki snaps off the blindfold. Through the window I see gray walls, gray floors, and gray ceilings.

"How cheerful," I mutter sarcastically. Oh, no. What a cliché! "Are we underground?"

Loki laughs. "No, of course not. We are in the last place the enemy will suspect. We are in the highly classified wing of a public political facility." I bite my lower lip wondering what had possessed him to be so specific in his choice of location. "In any case, it's time for you to get out. I warrant you're tired of sitting around."

I burst out the door before the end of his second sentence. It has no people, computers, or any furniture whatsoever. I don't care. I finally have a chance to stretch my legs. Oh, sweet heaven! Hallelujah! Twenty- four hours has been my wait time. And now I'm here: Germany.

**Hey guys! I know that this chapter is really short, but (with the help of a loving relative) I should be able to make it a bit longer. Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! What should happen next? Shout out to my two reviewers! You guys helped me get back on the ball! Thanks tons! ~ TARDIS-elf**

**Easter Egg: "I can feel you smiling." - Queen (Mirror Mirror)**


	5. HQ

Loki exits the car. He ignores me and walks to the door on the far side of the room. With all my stored energy, I'm practically there in ten seconds.

"So are there actually more people here than you, me, and him?" I gesture to the chauffer who stands so still, one might believe him to be a statue. I stare at him a while, sort of disturbed by the fact that nothing is disturbing him.

"Yes, quite a few actually," he replies. He appears to be fidgeting with a keypad.

"How many numbers do you have to enter onto that thing?"

He glances at me sideways, clearly ticked. "Well, due to your constant interruption, I've had to start over twice. So, if you want me to finish, stop talking."

I turn away, mocking him. It's very childish, I know, but he makes it so easy. Also, most of the time, I don't really have a problem with being childish. I walk in circles with my arms crossed over my chest. He is seriously taking _forever._ I walk casually over to the chauffer who still seems undeterred by anything.

"Hey," I say in an attempt to start a conversation. "What's up?" He continues to stare off into the distance. "What's your name?" Silence. "Hello?"

He keeps his vision line straight ahead but he talks. "Hello. I'm fine. My name is Joe. My master said not to talk to you. So, with all due respect, ma'am, shut up."

"Well!" I turn my back and toss my hair. This is the ultimate sign of disapproval and shunning.

"Done!" Loki cries with triumph.

"Well, finally, after a million years!" I dash to the door. Loki takes another million years to open it. He is so doing that on purpose. I bump him out of the way and turn the handle myself. I throw a glance over my shoulder. "Excuse me."

People! Glorious people! People surrounded by other people and computers and holograms (wow) and color. Mostly just blue, but I don't care.

A guy who looks like your regular everyday FBI agent minus the sunglasses approaches me and Loki. "Sir, you're here! Why didn't you use the tele…" he squints behind me and a look of realization crosses his face. "The tele_phone _to say you were coming?"

"Oh, just because I love surprises and all. Now, this," he lays a hand on my shoulder, "is Abby. She'll be staying with us for a while."

I shrug his hand off and extend a hand to Mr. FBI. He takes it and shakes it firmly. "Hi. I _am_ Abby, but I'm afraid that Mr. Mischief has his facts wrong. I'll be staying forever thanks to someone who's initials are Loki." I shoot him a look over my shoulder. He clears his throat.

"I'm Jared Johnson, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Johnson, and it's Abby not ma'am."

"Well, we look forward to having you here, Abby."

"Alright! Well, the opportunity to make acquaintances will come at a different time. This moment has been reserved for showing you to your room." Loki starts pushing me again.

"You do understand that this is not a fantastic show of character, correct?" He doesn't answer.

He continues to shove me towards a remote corner of the room where a door is. The door leads to a hallway which is every bit as dull as the room in which we parked. The hallway has a large collection of doors. Loki opens the first one on the left.

The room contains a bed. That's it. It doesn't even seem like a comfortable bed. It's more like a cot. "Fascinating. I went to a prison museum once where they had a cell that you could go into and stuff. This looks just like that. It's really quite charming." I know. Who could be more sarcastic than me? The answer: no one. Can't help it. It's just a really bad habit.

Loki rolls his eyes and shuts me inside.

So this is Germany. Funny. I thought it would be all colorful with cutesy little cottages and really good food. Speaking of food, I had no lunch or dinner yesterday. I am starved. Like seriously famished. Where's that Jared Johnson dude? I bet he knows where I can get something to eat. But so help me, if all I get is gruel, I will go insane. Sorry, it's just, I like food.

I open the door. Thank goodness the maniac didn't lock it. Out the next door and I'm in the Blue Room. Jared is standing with Loki by a glowing blue cube. Jared is talking, but both of their eyes are focused on it. By chance, Loki glances up and sees me. He hits Jared on his shoulder and they both quickly step in front of it and flash fake smiles.

I walk up to them casually. "Hello, gentlemen." They both wave. "What've you got there?"

"Something to make you ask questions. It's working, isn't it? Now, what are you doing…out?" says Loki.

"I want to know where the food is, but if you're busy…" I try to look around them. Loki pushes my head away from it.

"If you want food, fine. Son of John," he elbows Jared, "Go get that pizza thing."

"Really? My first time in Germany and you offer me pizza?"

"Well, what do you want?"

"How 'bout bratwurst? That's German, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's German. Son of John, bratwurst!"

"Yes, sir!" He comes back fifteen minutes later with probably the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. If ever in Germany, eat bratwurst. Yum!

My life here may turn out to be as dull as the building, but at least now I have something to occupy my mind. What is that cube thing? Why are they hiding it? I am at my wits end not knowing what's going on around here. I think that it's high time I figured out exactly what I've gotten myself into.


	6. I'll Stop Talking if You Stop

The people here all treat me differently. Some treat me like I'm the queen of the world. Others treat me like I'm nothing but a piece of garbage they can kick around and hope I get thrown away soon. Either way, I'm a prisoner.

A while back, I sent Jared Johnson to get me some fresh clothes and stuff. He was back within the hour with my entire wardrobe, leading me to believe that there _is_ a funky teleportation device somewhere and they're just keeping it from me because they don't want me to leave. I don't know why. I've proven myself to be pretty useless around here. I've got no tech smarts, no extraterrestrial knowledge that would be of any importance.

In fact, the only thing I'm good for is bringing a little personality to this whole operation. Seriously, everyone here is like a mindless robot. I met someone the other day who introduced himself as Clint Barton and all he could do was talk about how fantastic Loki is. It really makes me sick. I mean, honestly, he's not that great.

On the up side, I convinced Loki to move me to a different room. It's a bit better. It's got a dresser, a mirror, and a full-sized bed. There's still no window, though. Would it kill him to let a little light in? Is he photosensitive or something? I mean, seriously!

Oh well. I don't spend a lot of time in my room, anyway. I've been occupied mostly with finding out about that glowing, blue cube. I'm gonna bring their little secret down! Not that I'm going insane with it or anything.

However, there may be more to this whole thing than a cube. I'm pretty sure I overheard some people talking about someone named Tessa. Could it be that Loki has more than one victim of the life-debt? Is this some sort of sick hobby of his? Why haven't I seen her around? I think there's something more than meets the eye. I've got to get to the bottom of this. I don't care if it means I have to be little Miss Nancy Drew.

There's a little trick I learned years ago. I used to use it on my dad all the time and he always fell for it. It used to be just a prank, but now, this is serious.

I approach where Loki is sitting. He always sits there, for some reason. I don't know if it's some sort of weird yoga meditation routine or what. I decided to just go with it.

"Loki," I address him. He doesn't answer. That's not abnormal, but he usually at least looks at me. "Excuse me, Loki," I say a bit more firmly. Still doesn't answer. "Loki!"

Yup, that got him to snap out of it. But he sure is ticked. "What!?"

I take a step back. "Hold your horses, son. And be a bit more polite when speaking to a lady."

He rolls his eyes, "What?"

"Well, I just wanted to know if that blue, glowing cube of yours is important."

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. "I do not own a blue, glowing cube." He abruptly opens his eyes again. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. I just saw a guy run down the hall with it, is all. But if it's not important, then fine."

He's up faster than you can say "blink." He runs to the blue room, clearly panicking. He skids to a stop. "The Tesseract has been stolen! The Tesseract has been stolen! Begin the lockdown!"

The once professional looking staff is now a chaotic mess. It's like a giant ant colony whose nest was just destroyed. To think I caused that. It makes me want to laugh like the evil genius I am. Oh, by the way, it's Tesseract. Not Tessa. Noted.

Of course, Jared Johnson has to go blow the whole thing. "Um, sir. The Tesseract is right here." He points to the table where it sits. I'm really starting to not like that guy

I begin to bite my thumbnail as Loki turns slowly to me. He stares at me without saying a word. "What? To be fair, you were lying to me, too."

He rubs his forehead. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't just kill you."

"You know what, Loki? That's what I have to put up with every day, every hour. Why am I still even alive? Why do you insist on making my life miserable? I can't stand it! I'm of no use to you, and you're of no use to me. Thank you for what you did, but I can't live like this! Why don't you let me go? Why don't you just kill me?!"

I could see a war waging in his ice blue eyes. He was steaming, that much was certain. But it's like he's trying to fight back against his anger. He seems uncomfortable. If I'm causing him trouble like this, he really should get rid of me, one way or the other. As I've said before, I don't give a flip to whether I live or die. In fact, I'd rather die than spend my entire life in a torture chamber like this one.

Loki grabs my wrist and squeezes it so tight that I am confident he is cutting off my blood circulation. He drags me to my room and throws me in. He slams the door and I hear the click of the lock. Okay, so the maniac has finally cracked and trapped me in.

Does he plan to starve me to death? Uh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I can think of better ways to die. If that's his plan, I swear I'll find a way to escape. He will not be depriving this girl of food!

He really needs to go out there and buy himself a sense of humor with all that expensive tech equipment, though. I mean, seriously! He can't take a joke? (Please disregard the fact that it was actually more like a serious investigation.) That Tesseract thing can't really be that important, can it? Does it really have to be so secret? In my opinion, he's taking some seriously drastic measures.

"If you try to starve me, I'll be free of the life-debt y'know," I call to the air. Man, I belong in an asylum!

"I'm not going to starve you. You needn't fear. In any case, what would it profit you if you were to be freed of the life-debt after you're dead?" Sweet mercy, he's right outside the door! "Let's make a deal, Miss Brandon. I will free you and inform you of all the goings-on."

"I know better than anyone that all magic comes at a price. I watch Once Upon a Time. Or at least, I did. But it's been three weeks so I haven't been able to see it lately thanks to someone who you love above anyone else."

"Your end of the bargain will be to spend the next five days without talking to me. Or talking to anyone… at all."

"Are you serious?"

"You can choose to take my offer or leave it."

"Why?"

"I merely want to see if you can actually accomplish it. You seem to have a tendency to talk a good deal and it's vexing nearly everyone here, including me."

"Well, thanks for the subtlety."

I heard him inhale sharply. "Do we have an agreement?"

I think it over. I love talking to people, true. But I would also love to be able to turn around without smacking my face into a wall. But then, all five days would be like a forever long game of charades. I guess I'll have to put up with it. "Fine."

He unlocks the door and opens it. "You cannot speak beginning now."

This is going to be a long week.

**YAY! CHAPTER 6! Review please! And I want to apologize. Chapter 7 has been a little bit slow in the making, and right when I got back on the ball, Boom! My sister broke the only computer with my documents on it. We are in the process of getting it fixed and so I should have it up soon. Thank you to my followers who have dragged me through this story up to this point. Keep doing it. Believe me it helps!**

**Easter Egg: "All Magic comes at a price."-Rumplestiltskin (OUAT) **


	7. Quiet Pain

**Oh ma soul. It has been FOREVER and for that I can only apologize. This is sort of a filler chapter and it's kind of short and choppy so... Hope you enjoy in any case :)**

"You… want to… think?" asks Johnson.

I wave my arms in front of myself and point to my head again.

"You want to… oh! You want to know?"

_Okay, you can get "want to," but you can't get "know," _I think. I nod my head vigorously. I sign the letter "y."

"Why…"

I point to the Tesseract.

"Why the Tesseract…"

I put my hands together as though praying and then separate them.

"Why the Tesseract opens… Opens the portal?"

I nod.

Johnson looks to Loki who is sitting back with a suiting mischievous grin having the time of his life.

"That is a mystery that only Odin knows the answer to. Or at the very least, he never told me," answers Loki with a hint of disdain in his voice. Then he smirks. "Why do you want to know?" Oh, yeah, he is totally asking me questions just so he can tick me off.

I shrug. And then call him stupid in sign language. He didn't get it. Call it childish, but I think that those months of signing school finally paid off.

Johnson continues to ramble on in an unrecognizable, scientific jargon. Science has never been my forte, and I'm pretty sure this is seriously advanced. I stare blankly at him while he rants. Then he looks at me. "Understand?"

My eyes widen and I suck in my cheeks. I nod. I am such an awful liar.

One of the major downsides to this whole "silence arrangement" is that I cannot easily be sarcastic. Sarcasm is, like, my entire personality, and I get so irritated without it.

So when Loki says, "What are your thoughts, then, on my becoming Emperor Loki of human kind including you?" and I can't reply in a way that would annoy just about everyone, I walk up to him with a seemingly sweet smile on my face and slap him across the face. When he recovers, I blow a kiss in a successful attempt to mock him. With all that unsaid, I toss my hair in the ultimate sign of disapproval and strut to my room. Yes, I realize I have a temper problem, but, ladies and gentlemen, that is how you act sarcastic without saying a word.

When I enter, the first thing that comes to mind is, _Sweet mercy, am I sick of gray!_ But, seriously, who am I gonna bug about that? I will not even grant Loki my presence for the rest of the day even if it kills me. I'm sorry, but that's what happens when you get the ultimate sign of disapproval. No one else, besides maybe Johnson, would give a second thought to my problem and I can't go to him because he's probably still talking to Loki.

What would I do even if I did have a bucket of paint or something? The walls are cinderblock, and, let's be honest; paint wouldn't look too good on them. Maybe I could use wallpaper. Oh my word, who am I kidding? My captor is obviously allergic to all light, color, or anything cheerful. Furthermore, I highly doubt that anyone is going to volunteer to come into the highly classified wing of a public political facility to put up wallpaper into what was probably little more than a broom closet before. I just wish…

I want my life back so badly. It might've been boring, but I was free. I could've changed it for the better. But, no, I decided to mope until a maniac had to go and ruin it.

This predicament, however, is not about how I let my life be destroyed. This is about the insanity I am experiencing over the lack of color. I guess, if I was going to give my room some character, I would want it to look like an orange creamsicle. I can see it now: all cheery orange on the walls and white all over the bed and floors. But this dream reality grows more impossible as I realize I want carpet, too. Again, the idea is just too ridiculous.

I sigh and snatch my phone off the bed. I don't get any service, as usual. (I'm pretty sure Loki cut off the wifi from it somehow.) I used to text my sister all the time. I missed her when I was in New York and now I miss her even more. Last I heard from her, she was auditioning for Fiddler on the Roof and she had boy troubles. Now, I won't ever know how either turned out. I take comfort in re-reading our conversations.

I usually try to put on a good face, but not today. Nothing is going my way today. I had plans for life. Good plans. And twenty-two seemed like a good age to start them. But now I'm a slave to an egotistical maniac who's trying to overthrow the earth.

I develop a severe headache… which I have nothing for. It's like this day is like, "Hey, Abby's in a really depressing position! I know! I'll make it worse!" What's next? Gonna have me step on a Lego?

I hear a knock on the door. Nope, not in the mood. They continue to knock more persistently.

I growl softly and push myself up off the bed. I open the door to see Johnson.

"Dinner's ready, if you want some."

I want to say something like, "Oh. My. Word. I'm not a teenager!" But, you know… So instead I roll my eyes and slam the door.

Okay, that was a little rude. Oh, no, no, wait! Right now is my chance to not talk to Johnson about the lack of color.

I open the door back up. Thank goodness, he's still here! I type something up on my phone and hand it to him. It reads: _DO U THINK IT'S POSSIBLE 2 GET SOME COLOR IN HERE? _

He reads it and raises his eyebrows. "Well, I can ask for you if you want."

I give a thumbs up and mouth 'thank you. ' Then I take back the phone and slam the door, but in a much less insulting manner.

I sit back down on the bed, the idea of making this place a little more like me revived. I lie down and let the happy thought sing me to sleep. I dream of sucking in fresh air and sitting around in a park with my sisters. I dream of being home free.

_Meanwhile…_

_Nick Fury stands, supervising the work going on. More than three weeks since the last sighting of Loki. Since Rogers failed. In his defense, Fury should have never sent him in without a scrap of back-up. But he was built to be more than that. He shouldn't have to have a civilian play mother to him. _

_Speaking of that civilian, SHIELD lost track of her on the same day Loki was last seen. She knows a lot. Too much. It was important that they kept tabs on her. He has his suspicions about her. He knows she'll cause trouble in one way or another._

_Rogers has asked that she be given a chance. She _did _save his life._

_"__Sir, we may have a lead," informs an agent._

_"__Follow it," he orders. Anything information is good information. They're closing in on Loki now. It won't be long._

**So, yeah. This has been a chapter. You guys may want to brace yourselves for the next few chapters. Tears may ensue if you like my OC's and Coulson. So, 'til next time - TARDIS-elf **

**POP QUIZ: 1. Who is Abby going to end up with if she ends up with anyone? 2. What will happen in the next chapter? 3. What's going to happen if/when SHIELD finds Loki's hideout?**


	8. My Gray is His Black

**This must be a record. This is a longer chapter. We learn a little bit about Johnson. ENJOY!**

The next morning, I am a little overly optimistic. For me, good dream equals good mood.

I hum to myself as I dress in a lace tank-top with a tan ruffled skirt and an aqua sweater. I grab my phone, a very handy tool for communicating, and strut out the door.

I walk through the Blue Room, still managing to annoy anyone and everyone in my path by playing the Darth Vader theme. So much win.

I see Johnson at a computer. I go up to the desk where he's working and slam my hands down on it. He jumps and swallows hard when he sees me.

I grab a chair and type on my phone, _HEY-O! SO, DID U ASK HIM? _Then I gently toss the phone in front of him.

He reads it and hands it back to me. "Abby, I'm a little busy right now."

_I'M NOT A LITTLE KID, JOHNSON. JUST ANSWER YES OR NO. _I hand it to him.

He reads it. "Yes." He then opens my hand and puts the phone back in it, clearly indicating he wants me to stop not talking.

Not that unspoken requests ever stopped me. And I'm starting to get a little worried now.

I type again._ AND? _

"He said no. He said he didn't want your room to look lived in. I didn't ask why. I'm sorry."

Good feeling's gone. I sit in silence for a moment, processing this announcement. So, I guess my suspicions are correct, then. Loki is allergic to happy things.

"It was really important to you, wasn't it?" asks Johnson.

I shrug, not really wanting to talk about it.

So, gray. Gray is the color for the rest of my life. It's really sort of babyish to be upset about it. I mean, as my mom would say, it's not the end of the world. But then again, Loki has plans for things. So, actually, yeah, I am sitting in the middle of the very end of the world.

My vision goes a little fuzzy and I realize I'm tearing up, just the slightest bit. I wipe the tears away with the heel of my hand then stand up briskly.

"Are you going to be okay?"

_YEAH, I'LL B FINE. I'M GOING 2 GO CHEW OUT LOKI FOR BEING A JERK._

I snatch back the phone and start strutting again. But this time, dangerously. However, Johnson grabs my wrist.

"Don't do that, please."

I cock my head to the side.

"Loki may have tolerated your behavior toward him before, but who knows when he's going to snap? There are only so many insults a man who believes himself a king will take."

Oh, what? I thought Johnson was just another of Loki's mindless cronies. So, he has an opinion? This is news.

_U AREN'T SIDING WITH LOKI?_

"Of course I am. I mean, I've got to. It's just… It's really, really complicated."

Suddenly, a realization hits me in the face. I may not be the only person in the universe who's suffering at the hands of Mr. Mischief. That's deep. Really deep.

I sit back down with an expectant look on my face.

Johnson smirks a little and shakes his head. "I'm sure you don't want to hear it. And I don't want to bore you."

_PFFT, U WOULDN'T BORE ME._

He reads my text and shrugs. "Even so, this wouldn't be a good place."

I think about it. So many people are here. But what is one place I've rarely seen a soul? Oh! The hall where my room is hardly ever has visitors.

I tap Johnson's arm twice and stand. I begin to walk toward the hall. Luckily, he can take a hint and follows me.

When we reach the hall, I look out the door to make sure no one's followed us. Nobody has. I shut the door, sit on the floor with my back against the wall, and gesture for Johnson to start his story.

He chuckles, but I detect something more in that small laugh than slight amusement. Something about it… Maybe it was sadness. Maybe it was disappointment in life. Maybe it was a sort of longing, longing for something. Longing for everything.

"My father runs a sort of anti-SHIELD organization and he is crazy about it. I mean, he would sell his soul to destroy them."

I begin to speak. "Wait, what is…" I cover my mouth with my hand to remind myself to shut up more than anything.

"It's fine. You can talk if you want. I won't tell."

"Thanks. What is SHIELD?"

He thinks about it for a second. "Your friend, Steve Rogers? He and his little group is SHIELD."

"Oh," I whisper. At first, I wonder how he knows that I know Steve. Then I remember that Loki was creeping on me.

"Anyway, Clint Barton, you've met him, came to my father with an offer. The deal was if my dad gave people to Loki, Loki would bring about the destruction of SHIELD. He, of course, jumped at the opportunity. However, he knew that SHIELD wouldn't go down without a fight. Fights result in war, and wars result in casualties. So naturally he wanted to send as few people as possible while still being of help to Loki. So who does he send? He sends the disposable people."

I am so stupid. It takes me a solid five seconds before I connect the dots. "Oh my word! That is awful! I'm so sorry."

Johnson shrugs. "Well, y'know. I've got two older brothers so he doesn't need me. Furthermore, when you've been in the family business for twenty years and you're really not acquiring any important skills…"

"Twenty years? How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-nine today."

"Oh. Happy birthday."

Johnson comes and sits next to me. "Thanks."

I'm silent for a moment. "So, he expects you to die?"

He runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't know at this point."

I'm quiet again. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. How could any parent treat their kid like this? I mean, what are parents for? They're supposed to care about and for you. They're supposed to protect you.

Johnson definitely has it worse than I do. I mean, if I ever get out of here, I have parents back home who love me. If I ever get home, I will never leave their sights again, and they would be happy to have me. That's what I have. That's what Johnson doesn't have.

If he gets home, what does he get? He gets more work from a tyrannical and unfeeling father. And my worst concern is the color of my room.

"Thank you, by the way, for listening," says Johnson.

I shake my head. "No, thank you for helping me see how self-centered I am."

"That's not an issue. Most people around here are Loki-centered, and that's worse any day."

I let out a light laugh then sigh. "Well, I had better get back to being a mime. Yay."

"Sorry 'bout that."

"It was my decision. It's all good. See ya 'round, Johnson." I stand up.

"If it's all the same to you, I wouldn't mind being called Jared."

"Okay, Jared. Ta-ta," I walk out the door.

I don't like many people here. Most have that Loki attitude that is just slightly better than repulsive. But Jared is different, and I guess we're friends. I mean, two people who understand each other should be friends, right? I need a friend so badly, and Jared seems to be the best candidate out of those I've met here.

So now I have a friend, someone, who gets me, and someone who's going through the same living Mordor. It makes me feel a little better about this situation. It makes me appreciate more the family I've been so lucky to have. And maybe gray isn't such a bad color after all.

**Easter Egg: "Good feeling's gone."-Marlin (Finding Nemo)**

**Yep, so this is the official Chapter Eight. Hope you enjoyed. Follow, favorite, and/or review if you like. And the pop quiz from Chapter Seven: Quiet Pain is being reused. So go back, look, and answer. This should be fun. We're gonna get a ton of action in the next few chapters. Brace yourselves. Later Gater! -TARDIS-elf**


	9. Hope Killed

**This chapter is dedicated to my loving relative who probably doesn't love me anymore. And to hellantroy5567 who requested this chapter as a birthday present. Enjoy!**

I wake when an ice-cold hand comes down on my shoulder. I whip my head around to properly view the owner of it: Loki. A look of urgency has painted itself onto his face.

'You must come, quickly."

How can anything be important enough to wake me at the unholy hour of… 3:30? With an irritated look, I mouth, "What?"

Loki closes his eyes. "Abby, rarely have I taken advantage of the debt you owe me."

Oh, no? Something along the lines of, "Hey guess what? I'm taking you to Germany and you can never go home!" pops into my mind.

He continues "However, this is a time that I must. Come, and do not question me."

Well, I guess that's that. Needless to say, I'm not happy about it, but, as you know, debts and other such nasty business…

Loki leads me through the unorderly mess that was once the Blue Room. Everyone is in uproar. Why? I don't know, and clearly I'm the only person who doesn't. That ticks me off.

A woman approaches Loki. "Sir, the Tesseract is secure. Completely out of reach to them."

Loki nods. "Good."

Despite the chaos, some people are slowing in their tracks to give me dirty looks. What? It's not like they haven't seen someone in their pajamas before.

Loki takes me to a door that has an exit sign above it. I shoot him a look that says, "Are you sure?"

He opens his mouth to say something. Probably, "I said, 'Do not question me.'" I wave the words away before they exist.

I open the door to find myself in a stone hall with only a grate as a ceiling, exposing it to the outside world. The sunlight that immediately hits my eyes and the change to fresh air is too much. I get a sharp pain in my head and begin to feel nauseated. Apparently I missed the little "PM" on the clock. That would explain the disapproving looks. I slept through the afternoon. I am actually not surprised.

"You look awful," comments Loki.

_Well, now. That would be your fault, Mr. Mischief, _I want to say.

"Go with Johnson, he will keep you safe."

I squint in the sunlight to find that Jared is, in fact, standing near us. "But what about you, sir?" Jared asks.

"I'll be captured, no doubt. However, I have made plans for what to do while inside. "

Jared accepts this answer with a nod and begins to lead me away. I give him a look that clearly asks, "What in mercy's name is going on?"

He understands and answers, "SHEILD's found us. They're on their way as we speak."

Well, that's enough to get anyone moving. I may not be directly related to any of Loki's schemes, but if SHIELD takes me and gets the wrong idea…

I wait until Loki's out of earshot to ask, "Where exactly are we going?"

"It hasn't been officially decided. I'm supposed to get you out of Stuttgart. Out of Germany. Then, we'll go to India where we'll wait for further instructions concerning your whereabouts."

A silly, little question teases at my mind. I try to keep my mouth from saying it, but it slips out anyway. "Do you think there's a chance I'll be able to go back to New York?"

Jared bites the corner of his upper lip. "Judging from what they've told me, I imagine it will be best to keep you as far from the East Coast as possible."

I wish I hadn't asked. "So, no going home, either."

"Where's home?"

Our pace has slowed considerably. "Texas, with my family."

"You have family?"

I nod. "Yep. Mom, dad, two little sisters, and one little brother. The whole set. Took me a while to collect them all."

Jared laughs causing me to grin.

"That must be nice," he says.

"Sometimes." We walk unhurriedly in silence for a short time. "You know," I say. "This has been my first time in Germany, and I haven't got do any sightseeing. We don't have to go to India right away. You could take me. It would be, like, our first fun thing to do as friends."

I hear him whisper under his breath, "Friends…"

I mentally bang my head up against a wall. Of course I assumed we were friends. That's what the idiot in me does: assumes things.

"Oh, I'm sorry. If you don't want to be friends, I totally get that. I…"

I am interrupted when a pair of lips comes down on mine. Jared pulls away.

Well… This… this definitely changes things. I'm sure my eyes are as wide as a… I don't know what. Wait. Hold on. So, Jared likes… loves… just kissed… What? I honestly don't know how to respond to… this.

"There," he says with a crack in his voice. "That is what I'd like to be."

I have to remind myself to breathe. "Can I… can I just… can I think for a little while?"

He nods.

So, do I like him? I don't know. He's nice. He's very sweet. He gets me. But I guess I just haven't gotten to know him enough in the three plus months I've been… I hardly even know what just happened. Maybe, if he would just give me maybe, like, a thousand years to weigh things back and forth in my mind, I could decide how things are going to be.

I hear footsteps quickly approaching. I whip around at the same time Jared does to see what I assume are SHIELD agents running towards us.

"Run!" yells Jared as he pulls out a gun from inside his suit coat.

"But, you…"

"Forget me! Just go!"

I start to obey, but I can't help but steal the occasional glance backwards every time I hear a shot.

Then, after a shot, a new sound comes: a cry of pain. I spin around to see Jared sink to his knees and fall on his face. I all too soon realize what has happened. Jared, my only friend, has sacrificed his life for me.

**I'm sorry. That was mean, but it will create a little emotional trauma that was not previously there. It killed me to write this, but I've had this planned for a while. And, as my grandfather has said to me, there are three things that make a story: love, hate, and death. In the words of Suzanne Collins, John Green, and Veronica Roth: KILL ALL ZE CHARACTERS! That was uncalled for. I apologize. I hope you... enjoyed... I guess. 'Til next time *sniff* -TARDIS-elf *breaks into tears***


	10. For Their Sakes

**Sort of a very long filler chapter, so... yeah. I am very sorry about Jared's sudden death. But in any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

My eyes are widened in shock and horror. Time is frozen, and suddenly that is my forever. I stand there for years, for decades, for millennia, looking ahead at the hope that has been killed. I can't move, can't breathe. People have died trying to kill me, but for someone to die trying to save me…

The world has wasted away to nothingness. All that remains of it is this cold hall. It's just me and Jared's lifeless body. And his murderers. SHIELD. They had tormented him indirectly his whole life. It would seem that life had tortured him. And now he had given it up. He knew his fate, too. I'm sure of it. Why did someone so selfless have to love me so much?

The universe I have been floating in has pushed me out, and I find myself back in my body.

"Jared…" I whisper. I repeat his name over and over again, louder all the time. "Jared!" I'm screaming now. I have never cried so hard. My eyes are burning and I can't see anything. Except red.

The two agents come and grab me by my arms. I claw at them, wanting to make them suffer. I shout at them with inhuman noises.

I feel a slight pinch in my neck. I reach for it and pull out a needle about the size of half my hand. My entire body goes numb. My surroundings slow and spin. And I'm out.

_Meanwhile…_

_Steve Rogers waits in the middle of the place that was Loki's headquarters. Soon everyone will have returned from scouring the place. He has found Loki. The villain stands now, there in the midst of all the agents, guns pointed at him, not saying a word. _

_The Tesseract hasn't been found. _

_Tony Stark returns, making all sorts of comments that he must believe to contain a lot of wit. _

_Then the last two of their small army return carrying a girl. But, wait. Steve knows this girl. She saved his life. Abby. So, she _was_ here. _

_He's not sure what to make of it. He can only hope that Fury keeps his promise to give her a fair chance._

_Steve addresses everyone. "Let's move out."_

When I come to, I'm in a plane, by the looks of it. My head feels like it's on fire. Something must've hit me really hard. How long was I out? I see images in my mind that don't make… wait. They do make sense. My hand flies to my mouth as I suffer the rude awakening for the second time.

I squeeze my eyes shut and scream into my palm.

I open my eyes to find Loki staring into them. He seems annoyed. How could he be? Doesn't he know a life has been lost?

"He's dead. They killed him."

He rolls his eyes. "We had a deal…"

"Forget you and your deals! Thanks to you and your deals, someone I cared a lot about was just murdered! The least you could do is show a little respect! It's all your fault, and I hope you know that. And I hope that haunts you for the rest of your pathetic life."

"Worthless mortal…"

I lunge at him, but my nails never reach his face, because someone is holding me by the waist. I spin around to attack… Steve.

Something takes over and I can't bring myself to hurt him. And I know that I have to be strong, for his sake. Maybe he doesn't need me to be strong, but being strong for someone is a comforting feeling. Pretending to be strong might help me be strong.

"Steve, please let go of me. I won't do anything stupid. I promise."

He takes his arms away and I stand, looking at everyone who is staring at me. Loki, Steve, Stark, and a redheaded woman I've never seen before all anticipate my next move.

"Everyone about your business," I command. They obey.

I exhale, trying to sort through my thoughts. I wish Jared were here. I would be able to vent to him. But if Jared were here, there would be nothing for me to vent to him about.

After a long moment of silence, Steve finally asks me, "Abby is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract?"

I glance over to Loki who is staring daggers at me. "I don't actually know much about it. Even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed to say."

He looks a little confused, but seems to understand that I am mostly in the dark.

So, I sit. I wait. Steve talks to me a little. He says that they're taking Loki and me to a helicarrier base for SHIELD. I cringe when he says it. SHIELD killed Jared. I'll always hate them.

He says I should be safe there, though they'll more than likely want to interrogate me. Yeah, like I know any useful information.

I was just a prisoner. I still am one, just in a different cell with two captors instead of one. I won't let myself believe that that's all I'll ever be. Jared died so I could live. I won't let his life go to waste. I swear now that I'll be more than I ever believed I could be. For Jared's sake. I swear my life will mean something. For Jared's sake.

After another long silence, a voice that sounds vaguely familiar comes over the radio. "Saying anything?"

Miss What's-her-face answers. "Not a word."

"Just get him here. We're low on time." I realize that I know who that voice belongs to: Nick Fury.

I take my seat again.

Steve is staring at Loki with Stark. "I don't like it," he says.

Stark replies. "What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?"

"I don't remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop"

"Still, you are pretty spry, for an older fella." What? How old is Steve? He can't be older than twenty-seven. "What's your thing? Pilates?"

"What?"

"It's like calisthenics. You might've missed a few things, y'know, doin' time as a Capsicle." These people get weirder and weirder every time Stark opens his mouth. Jared would've laughed if I said that to him.

Steve stares at him like he's offended. "Fury didn't tell me he was callin' you in."

"Yeah, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you."

Lightning strikes. I'm in a plane. Dying doesn't sound great at the moment.

"Where's this coming from?" Ginger asks no one.

Loki seems tense. What's his deal? I thought he was "immortal."

Steve must notice this. "What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows." Okay, what? What follows lightning? Only thunder.

The whole plane shakes. "Well, I don't know about you lot," I say. "But the idea of dying doesn't appeal to me."

Steve and Stark put on their masks. What? I am so lost, right now.

Iron Man opens the plane, exposing us to the storm. He's a lunatic.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks Stark.

Some blonde dude with a hammer and a red cape lands in the plane. Loki's mouth drops open. Blonde dude hits Stark with his hammer. That's got to hurt.

I realize that this particular blonde has been described to me before. It's Thor, if I'm correct. He grabs Loki by his neck and flies out the plane. What? Um, no. I may not like Loki, but I owe him.

"You've got to get him back!" I yell at everyone.

"Don't worry, Abby. We're going to," says Steve.

Stark recovers from the blow and mumbles, "And now there's that guy."

"Another Asgardian?" asks the red-head.

"That guy's a friendly?" asks Steve.

Stark replies, "Doesn't matter. If he frees Loki or kills him the Tesseract's lost."

"Stark, we need a plan of attack!"

"I have a plan: attack." And with that, he flies after them.

Steve grabs a parachute and starts strapping it onto himself.

"What are you doing?" I ask Steve.

"Stark needs all the help he can get," he replies.

"I'd sit this one out, Cap," says what's-her-face.

"I don't see how I can," Steve replies.

"These guys come from legend they're basically gods," red-head tells him.

"There's only one God, ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that."

He grabs his shield and starts to leave.

"Wait, Steve," I call after him. He turns to face me. "Be safe."

He nods and jumps off the end of the plane.

**As I said, a very long filler chapter. Hope you enjoyed! 'Til next time -TARDIS-elf**


	11. So This is SHIELD

**Chapter eleven. YAY! Honestly, I never thought it'd be this popular. So, thank you very much for your support and REVIEWS! Enjoy.**

My personality has a few very good things, and it has many very bad things. If you made a list of all the good things, you would find that "patience" is not on it.

I get very irritated when I have to wait. I have a terrible habit of pacing back and forth and crossing my arms and moaning and groaning and asking people to just kill me.

"Why do you want Loki back so desperately? You seem to hate him." asks ginger girl.

"I don't want him back. I _need _him back. And I do hate him," I reply.

"If you hate him, how was he able to sucker you into joining him?"

I stare at her. "Despite what is apparently popular belief, I am not moronic enough to willingly join his forces. He saved my life. I owe him."

"Believe me, I know how that is," she mumbles.

I introduce myself. "Abby Brandon, by the way."

"Natasha Romanoff."

Here it would be polite to say something that implies that I'm happy to meet her. But, at the moment, I am not exactly pleased to meet anyone, much less, a SHIELD agent. So, I just nod and regain my seat.

A few eons later, Natasha opens the hatch to let Stark, Steve, Loki, and Thor in the plane. They all look ticked, except Loki. Loki's got a look on his face that is somewhere between "Oh, that was hilarious," and "You guys are all idiots," with just a hint of, "Aww yeah, it's all coming together."

I try to keep my eyes focused on my hands so I don't get caught up in a whirlwind of tension and lack of control.

People don't really want to talk, and that's fine with me. I think it's Loki who's making things so awkward. I mean, he's out after everyone in this plane. Except me. If he wanted to kill me, he'd have gotten it over with by now. This fact just makes things worse for me. I feel like I could sneeze and have weapons pointed at me.

The plane lands. I am helped out by Steve. The moment I'm on both of my feet, a pair of handcuffs is slapped on my wrists by Stark.

"Um, excuse me?"

"It's just a precaution, Abby," says Steve.

"What? What do you think I'm gonna do? Escape back to civilization?" I look over the edge of the helicarrier. There's nothing but air and sea beneath us.

I hold my wrists up to Stark and say, "Take back your bracelets. Every girl needs her bling."

"Do the words 'anger management' mean anything to you? If not, I know a guy who could help you with that," says Stark.

It took me everything to keep from reshaping his nose. "Try anger management when your best friend was just murdered."

Well, that shut him up.

"Take off the cuffs, Stark. I'm sure she'll be fine," instructs Steve.

Stark hesitates, but eventually complies.

Loki does not get similar treatment. No, he gets guards and a threat of excruciating pain should he act out.

I walk behind Loki and his guards. My only guard is Steve which is fine by me. He's the only one who's treated me halfway decently.

I see Nick Fury, and he sees Loki. The Fury says a few words to the Loki. I don't even hear what he's saying. Partly because I'm too far away, partly because I'm seeing an actual, government officiated headquarters. Y'know, I assume it's headquarters. How could it be anything else? It's so different from Loki's little HQ in Germany.

For one, it's more organized. For two, there is way more elbow-room. For three, the tech is way more advanced by the looks of it. However, two things remain the same: there's still nothing but gray and blue and I'm still a prisoner.

"Why has she not been restrained?" Fury breaks into my thoughts.

I roll my eyes. "Again, does it look like I'm prone to cause trouble?"

"You were found in Loki's hideout."

"I was a prisoner," I retort.

"You attacked our people."

"I saved his life," I say pointing to Steve. "Do you think I would've done that if I wanted him dead?"

"Plans and minds change."

I throw my hands above my head. "Oh, sweet mercy. You are absolutely impossible! I am so done with you. I am so done with all of you. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened, but I can't, can I? And why? Because people have died, haven't they? More people than I know about, and I'm still alive, and that's a crime. I know it is. He shouldn't be dead. I want him back alive. I want him alive."

I bury my face in my hands. I know that I've totally lost it now. I can easily pardon myself. I feel I'll spend the rest of my life beating myself up over Jared's death. If I trace it back, I realize he's dead because I wanted to die epically. But I can't die now, can I? I have to make his sacrifice mean something. And I'm not going to do that by weeping and wailing. Furthermore, Steve is standing right next to me. So, I have to be strong.

"Just calm down, ma'am," instructs Fury. "We're going to ask you a few questions."

I lift my face out of my hands, brush back the tears, and swallow past the lump in my throat. "I'm fine. I'm good. Ask your questions."

"You said you were a prisoner. How did that come to be?"

I stare blankly at Fury's boots. "Someone… Someone died… because he was trying to…"

"Are you sure you're okay, Abby?" asks Steve.

"You know what, Steve? I'm actually not okay at the moment. I can't really think straight. Is there somewhere, anywhere, I could just lie down and sort through my thoughts."

Fury answers me. "We _do _have a spare bunker, but it's under extremely high security."

"Well, isn't that what you for me? Extra high security?"

"I wasn't hesitating to put you there. That was a warning. Captain Rogers, you know where it is."

Steve takes me to the bunker to which Fury was referring to. I am completely shocked (note the sarcasm) to discover that the room is entirely (drum roll, please) gray.

"Thank you, Steve. I just need a little time. I'll answer his questions when I come out."

He nods. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Actually, come to think of it, there is. If you get the chance to talk to Loki, tell him that there's a story I want to tell him. It's called, 'The Cost of a Mortal's Captivity.'"

Steve gives me a look that says I'm crazy, then he nods and walks away.

Loki's in for it now. I'm not going to let him get away without feeling even the smallest twinge of guilt. He needs to know what he's done. So the next time I see him, he's gonna know that he'd better watch his back.

**So, now we're in the helicarrier and things are falling back to the way it was in the movie. I'm gonna have a few more chapters in the SHIELD base. 'Til next time -TARDIS-elf. **


	12. Getting To Know You

**So... yup.**

It actually doesn't take me long to determine what I'm going to say. It's mostly a matter of how much information I'm going to reveal. For one, I'm not going to tell them about Jared. His life, his memory, isn't something I should hand out like a flier. For two, I am more than likely not going to tell them about what Jared said about staying away from the East Coast. They've got enough tech and brains to figure that out for themselves. Pretty much, I'm going to act like I don't know a thing. I was just a helpless woman who was held prisoner. It's best if they believe that.

I walk out the door. I acknowledge the fact that I am still in my pajamas. Awkward.

I remember which direction I came from and head that way.

Everyone I've talked to who works for SHIELD (excluding Nick Fury) and one more guy and woman is present and either sitting or standing around a table. Even Loki's voice is present.

"… And then to be reminded what real power is." Oh, fantastic. I probably just missed an epic speech of his. Brilliant. I smirk with satisfaction.

"Well, let me know when 'real power' wants a magazine or something," that was Fury's voice. So, I guess everyone is here.

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" says the guy whom I haven't met.

"Oh, just wait. Give him a few days and you'll want him to be your best friend," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "My name's Abby. And yours?"

"Bruce Banner." I smile briefly and nod in greeting.

Steve starts talking. "Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?"

I hear Thor's voice for the first time. It's very deep and accented. "He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. He will win them the earth in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

Steve stares at him in disbelief. "An army? From outer space?"

"So, he's building another portal. That's what he needs Erik Selivg for." Selvig. The name sounds familiar. I probably ran into him while I was in Germany.

"Selvig?" says Thor.

"He's an astrophysicist," says Bruce.

"He's a friend," Thor replies.

Natasha speaks up. "Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours."

"Who's the one of yours?" I ask out of curiosity.

"His name is Clint Barton," she answers.

"Hey, I know him. I just briefly met him in Germany."

"So, he's ok, then?"

I shrug. I don't know what happened to anyone except Jared and Loki.

Steve begins talking again. "I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He's not leading an army from here."

Bruce cuts in. "I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag of cats, you could smell crazy on him."

I point at him. "That is not untrue."

"I don't care how you speak," says Thor. "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother."

"He killed eighty people in two days," informs Natasha. Something I said comes back to mind. Something about more people dying than I know about.

"Eighty-one," I say, including the thug I encountered.

"He's adopted," says Thor. You learn something new every day.

Bruce changes the subject. "Iridium, what did they need the Iridium for?" He looks at me with what I interpret as a look of expectancy.

"What? I don't even know what Iridium is."

Stark walks in with another dude. "It's a stabilizing agent." I guess that both answers Bruce's question and tells me what it is. He mumbles something to the other dude. "Means the portal won't collapse on itself, like it did at SHIELD." He walks by Thor. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing. Also, it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants. Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails. That man is playing GALAGA. Thought we wouldn't notice, but we did."

I clamp my hands over my mouth and snort. "GALAGA," I mumble.

"Oh, it's you. Miss Angry-Pajama-Lady."

"If you want a nick-name for me, Tin Man, you're gonna have to keep trying," I snap.

"Fair enough." He covers his eye with his hand. "How does Fury see all this?"

The one woman answers. "He turns."

"Sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick-start the cube."

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" The agent asks.

"Last night," Stark retorts. "The packet, Selvig's notes, the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" inquires Steve.

"He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect," Stark says.

"Well, if he could do that, he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet."

Whoa. Everything they just said went way over my head. Science. I don't understand it.

"Finally, someone who speaks English." Stark walks over to shake hands with Bruce.

"Is that what just happened?" mutters Steve. He gets me.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner," says Stark. "Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster." Hold on. What?

Bruce hesitates. "Thanks."

Fury enters the room saying, "Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him."

"Let's start with that stick of his," says Steve. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

Thor seems confused. "Monkeys? I do not understand."

"I do!" exclaims Steve. "I understood that reference."

Stark rolls his eyes, and he and Bruce walk away to go do science-y stuff.

Fury's eye comes to rest on me. "Why has she been allowed in on this conversation?"

"Again, do I look like I wanna cause trouble?"

"You're starting to sound like it."

"Well, why don't you interrogate me so we can just get this over with and I can go home," I snap.

"Home isn't the best place for you to go."

"How do you know that?"

"How do you?" I stare at him in silence. "Would you like to begin that interrogation now?"

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how my "poor innocent prisoner" plan failed.

**And here I would like to apologize. I know some of you were looking forward to "The Cost of a Mortal's Captivity," by Abby Brandon. However, plans and minds change. So, while I'm still going to add that bit, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the next chapter. 'Til next time -TARDIS-elf**


	13. The Cost of a Mortals Captivity

Fury doesn't take me to a proper interrogation room. He also doesn't bring in any witnesses. Apparently, he thinks his word is enough. (well, I guess Steve is here, but whatever.

"Name?"

"Katniss Everdeen."

He glares at me. "Sarcasm is not appreciated here, ma'am. What is your real, full name?"

"Abby Rebecca Brandon, and you'd better learn to appreciate it, fast."

"Age?"

"Twenty-two," I answer, staring ahead blankly.

"Occupation?"

"Indentured servant."

Fury stares at me. "Slavery is illegal."

I shrug. "Killing people is illegal. You think Loki cares?"

"Why don't you tell us how that unfortunate circumstance came to be," he says as he crosses his arms.

I huff. "Long story short, I was being mugged. The thug was ready to kill me, but Loki killed him first. Then, he insisted I owed him a life debt. I don't know why I agreed, but I did. I guess it was the honorable thing to do. So… yeah."

"How long ago was this?"

"Um… I don't know. Like, three weeks or so?"

"Would you consider Loki your friend?"

That… is an excellent question. I do hate him, but it's not like my goal in life to destroy him. He's done some awful stuff and he's stupid. Ridiculously stupid. But I don't know. It's sort of complicated, I guess.

"I think Loki would consider himself my friend. He hasn't killed me yet, so I guess he doesn't think I'm a threat. Unlike some." I throw a pointed glance at Fury. "But I can't say that the feeling is mutual."

"Has Loki given you any information concerning the Tesseract?"

"He tried to, but it was sorts of science junk that I totally didn't get."

"I was referring to the location of the cube."

I shake my head. "All I know is that it got shipped out before you guys made it there. Is that all? Or do you still think I'm going to bring about the apocalypse?"

"C'mon, Fury," says Steve. "What harm can she possibly do?"

"Thank you," I say.

I stare at Fury and he stares back, contemplating his options. "Clear out of here," he finally commands.

"Finally," I mutter. I stand and begin to walk back to the room I've been given.

"Wait, Abby!" I turn around to see Steve hurrying after me. "Uh… Let me walk you to your room."

"Umm… Okay."

Once we reach the room, Steve leans in and whispers, "I can get you in to see Loki when you're ready."

I furrow my eyebrows and look at him. "Really? Why? I'm not exactly well trusted by SHIELD as far as I can tell."

"I watched you break down back there. You've obviously got a bone or two to pick with him. You've just got to promise not to go nuts."

"You have my solemn word. But first: food. I. Am. Starving."

Steve smiles a little. "Hold on. I'll get you something."

"Thanks," I say and head inside.

On the bed, there's an outfit. I recognize it as the SHIELD uniform that most of the ladies wear. Well, it's better than what I've got on now. I slip it on.

Five minutes later, Steve returns with a piece of pizza that I finish in four bites.

"Are you ready now?" he asks.

I nod and walk out the door.

* * *

Loki looks up and grins evilly when I enter. "Well, if it isn't Abigail come to tell me a story."

I scowl at him. "My name is Abby."

He smirks. "I thought my ears were not worthy enough to hear your name."

I take a seat. "You've been waiting three weeks to say that to me, haven't you?"

"Never mind. What did the soldier say was the name of your tale? 'To Keep a Mortal Captive'?"

"It's called 'The Cost of a Mortals Captivity,' if you'll hear it."

He gestures for me to continue.

"Once upon a time, there lived a family: a father and three sons. The youngest of the trio adored his father and would do anything for him. At the age of nine, he joined his father's business, which was essentially a team of assassins.

As time wore on, he didn't really get better at anything he needed to to keep the assassins alive. Therefore, his father loved him less and less. Twenty years he worked, struggling to keep his father's love.

One day, a self-centered, maniacal jerk sent one of his cronies with a deal for the young man's father. The maniacal jerk would start a war if the father would give him soldiers. So, do you know what he did? He sent his own son to the battlefield in the hopes that he would die. The young man met a girl there, and somehow he fell in love with her. But she was awful to him. She always complained, and pushed him around, and never realized… His life was miserable. He rarely had a happy moment.

Not long after being enslaved by his father's hands, his worst enemy attacked. He was instructed to keep the girl safe. While doing his job, he told the girl he loved her. She asked for a little time to think about how she was going to answer. But he never got his answer, because he loved her so much that, when the enemy found them, he was shot and killed for her. All this because you thought it would be a good idea to keep me captive, and now Jared's dead. And I hope you die, too, if you can."

I begin to walk out of the cell room. "How little you know of me, mortal."

"Why do you say that?" I ask, not looking at him.

"I do not wish to tell you. But I will say this. My condolences. I am sorry that the man who loved you is dead."

I still don't look at him. I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow past a lump in my throat. "Thank you," I say. Then I hurry out the door.


	14. Planning and Plotting

**It. Has. Been. Forever. I am so, so sorry. Thanks for sticking with me through this rough patch. This chapter isn't my favorite, meaning I think it stinks. But you guys needed something, so...**

I'm not crying. I'm not mourning. I'm just trying to decide what happens next in life. I've shut myself away in the room I've been given. Steve has given up trying to get me to answer the door.

Jared's gone. There's nothing humanly possible I can do about it. I'll always hate myself for letting him die, and he'll always be my hero and my best friend. But I need to suck it up and move on. I've heard that buried emotions aren't good for one's sanity, but so far it hasn't helped to have them in plain view.

So, what now? Get home. Yes, that's the plan. It's really always been the plan. So, now it's time to get my game face on. I've got a mission to accomplish.

I stand up and open the door. Steve is still outside it. I offer a brief smile and strut down the hall. He follows me.

I throw a glance over my shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you need me for something?"

"Oh, no. I was just making sure you're alright."

I shrug. "I'm fine. I'm always fine."

"Well, I thought… You seemed a little upset, so…"

I turn to him and nod. "I was a little upset. Nothing big though. Don't worry."

"Is it something Loki said?"

"Nah, it was something I said and then other stuff, too. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but it's not something I really want to talk about."

He holds his hands up in defense. "I get it. Sorry."

I continue walking. "Well, are you and I going to go grab something to eat or what?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. The mess hall's this way," Steve answers as he takes the lead.

In the mess hall, they're still serving pizza, and that's fine by me. I pile my plate with three pieces and sit down across from Steve.

"I have something for you," he announces.

"Oh?" I answer, my mouth filled with crust and cheese and pepperoni.

I hear a slight buzz come from next to Steve. He picks up the source of the buzzing. "What a coincidence," he whispers. "Anyway, here you go."

I stare in disbelief with my mouth wide open. I stare at the object he's holding out to me. My phone. My sister's face is on it. She's calling me. I snatch the phone from him and answer it.

"Renée?"

_"__Abby, is it you?" _

"Yeah, it's me," I answer, tears welling up in my eyes.

_"__Where in mercy's name have you been? We've been worried sick."_

"I was… That is, I was taken…" If I told her where I've been, would she be in danger? That's the way things normally work out with these top secret organizations. At least, from what I've seen in movies. "I got a new job. I'm sorry I haven't called. I've been… busy."

_"__For three weeks you've been busy?"_ Renée was always the first to see through my cover up's.

"Yeah. How are Gail and Bobby?"

_"__They're fine."_

"And Mom and Dad?"

_"__Mom's fine, but Dad…"_

"But Dad what? Tell me."

I hear her take a deep breath. _"Dad… There was an accident on the road. He's in a coma. Abby, we need you down here. Mom got a job temporarily, but she's been so tired. She really needs your help."_

It takes me a while to drink in this new information. My dad is in a coma, and I'm needed at home, which is a place I can't go.

_"__Will you come home, Abby?"_

"Renée, I can't promise…" I take a deep breath. "You really need me, don't you?" Her silence is answer enough for me. "Yes, I'll come home." I'll just have to get an 'okay' from SHEILD and save Loki's life. Shouldn't be a problem.

_"__Oh," _she sighs. _"Thank goodness. I'm gonna call mom right now, and tell her you're coming, okay? And don't you forget to call back. Love you. Bye."_

I hang up and stare straight into Steve's eyes. "That was my sister. My dad's in a coma. I need to get there ASAP."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?"

"Well, could you smuggle me to Texas?"

"I'm afraid not."

I nod. "I thought as much. I guess I'm going to have to ask. But could you get me in to see Loki?"

He stands. "That much I can do." He sits back down. "Y'know, when you're ready."

I stand. "I lost my appetite. We can go now if you want."

* * *

"Back so soon? And with a friend," observes Loki upon Steve and I enter.

"I need something from you." It's in my nature to cut the junk and get to the point.

"Of course you do. As of now, you don't need to see me if you don't want to. Why else would you come?"

I stare at him.

"Well, do get on with it."

I snap out of it. "Right. I need you to release me from my debt."

"Now why would I do a thing like that?"

I try to keep my senses about me. I plaster a sarcastic smile on my face. "Because I need to get home, because, unlike some people, I love my family and I want to help them."

"My answer is no. Good day, Abby."

"You self-centered jerk! My dad is in a coma and my mother is under a lot of stress. You have no idea what she's going through right now. Not that it's important to you! You're too concerned with making everyone's lives miserable. She needs me, but, nope! You've got to hold me to a stupid code of honor!"

"Every day, she does this," Loki complains to Steve.

"Leave him out of this! Just let me go! You don't need me. Give up already!"

"Know this, Miss Brandon: I do not give up easily. Your little family can die for all I care. I will never free you."

"Hey! Be careful how you talk to a lady," scolds Steve.

"Thank you, Steve, but I can hold my own," I say maintaining eye contact with the Asgardian. "Do what you want, Loki. Just be sure to watch your back."

I walk out with Steve at my heels.

I will get to my family. I promised them and I don't go back on my word, ever. Loki's the only thing really holding me back. So, there's only one thing to do: I have to kill Loki.

**Ehehe. I love suspense and cliffhangers and the like. Hope you enjoyed. I promise to get the next chapter up sooner as I actually know what I want to do with it. 'Til next time -TARDIS-elf**


	15. Assets

How does someone kill an immortal being? How does someone get away with it? I have no good ideas. I don't even know where to start or what to do. I just have to do it. What I wouldn't give to be able to just finish the job and make off with one of the planes.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That's gonna be hard to do since both my enemies are enemies of each other. But, I think there's a weak link. There is someone here who I can tell is not necessarily an enemy of either party. So, I just have to figure out how trusting and gullible Thor is and improvise from there.

I walk down the halls, a new target in mind. If I'm lucky, he'll have the information I need. I just have to be his friend. Or at least pretend to be.

"Hey, are you okay?" I almost forgot I was walking with Steve. "You seem a little… intense."

I shrug. "Just thinking I guess."

He stops me dead in my tracks.

"What's going on," I ask.

"Shh…" is his only reply.

Through glass, I see at what he's looking at. It's Stark and Dr. Banner. Bruce seems to be working while Stark seems to be poking him with a metal stick.

Steve walks into the room. "Hey, are you nuts?"

Stark ignores him and continues talking to Banner. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums?"

Steve ignores the fact that Stark is ignoring him. "Is everything a joke to you?"

"Funny things are."

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny. No offense, doctor."

"No, it's alright. I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things," says Bruce.

"I'm sorry. Am I missing something?" Everyone stares at me like I just grew horns.

Stark is the first to speak up. "You're just everywhere, aren't you, Princess Leia?"

"Excuse me?"

Stark seems to be in a mood where he wants to ignore everything and everyone. He turns his attention back to Dr. Banner. "You're tiptoeing, big man. You need to strut."

"And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," snaps Steve.

"You think I'm not? Why did Fury call us and why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"You think Fury's hiding something?"

"He's a spy. Captain, he's the spy. His secrets have secrets." He stuffs his face full of blueberries and points to Banner. "It's bugging him, too. Isn't it?"

"Uh… I just want to finish my work here and…"

"Doctor?" prompts Steve.

Bruce takes a deep breath and takes off his glasses. "'A warm light for all mankind…' Loki's jab at Fury about the cube."

"I heard it," says Steve.

"Well," continues Bruce, looking at Stark. "I think that was meant for you." Stark offers his blueberries to Banner and he takes a few. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

Steve interjects. "Stark Tower? That big ugly…"

Stark, the owner of that tower, shoots him a look that clearly says he is none too pleased with the way Steve is describing it. I have to suppress a laugh.

"…building in New York," Steve finishes.

"It's powered by an arc reactor, self-sustaining energy source," explains Banner. "That building will run itself for, what, a year?"

I just want to bang my head up against a wall. More science.

"It's just a prototype," replies Stark. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now. That's what he's getting at."

"So why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project," Says Bruce, referring to Stark. "And what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?"

"I should probably look into that," says Stark. "Once my decryption programmer breaks into all of SHIELD's secure files."

I'm actually mildly impressed. Steve just looks horrified. "I'm sorry. Did you say…"

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours I'll know every dirt y secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide. Blueberry?"

And now I'm suddenly open to the idea of tolerating Tony Stark. Assuming his little decryption program actually works and I can make friends with him, I could know some of those "dirty secrets." Blackmail isn't very convenient, but it sure is powerful.

"Yet, you're confused about why they didn't want you around," says Steve.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome. Care for a blueberry, Princess Leia?"

Well, here goes. I'm gonna make a friend. I give him the most friendly smile I can muster. "Yeah, thanks." I reach into the bag and pop a few of the sweet, blue things into my mouth.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up," Steve suggests. "This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused he'll succeed. We have orders. We should follow them."

"Following's not really my style," retorts Stark. Perhaps he and I have enough in common for me to start pretending to be his pal.

"And you're all about style aren't you?" The first word that comes to mind is, "BURN!"

Stark is taken aback. "Of the people in this room, who is, A, wearing a spangly outfit and, B, not of use?" That's not ok.

"Excuse me for having an opinion, but I think Steve is right. I don't know what Loki's plan is, but you need to figure it out. And you can't do that if you don't have your eyes and ears open, and you have to be focused to do that," I say.

Just a note, you don't make friends by siding with the person that they're arguing with.

"Steve," says Banner. "Tell me none of this smells a little funky to you."

"Just find the cube," he mumbles and leaves the room.

Stark resumes his work. "That's the guy my dad never shut up about? I'm wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice."

"The guy's not wrong about Loki. He does have the jump on us," replies Bruce.

"What he's got is an ACME dynamite kit. It's going to blow up in his face. And I'm gonna be there when it does."

I snort. "Well, you got that right."

"Yeah," says Bruce. "I'll read all about it."

I sigh, take a seat in a computer chair, and spin myself around.

"Uh-huh. Or you'll be suiting up with the rest of us," says Stark.

"Ah, see. I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed, like a nerve. It's a nightmare."

"You're a soldier, too?" I ask.

"Not exactly," answers Bruce over his shoulder.

"You know," begins Stark. "I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart." He taps his chest. "This stops it. This little circle of light, it's a part of me now, not just armor. It's a terrible… privilege."

"But you can control it."

"Because I learned how."

"It's different," Bruce replies.

"Hey, I read all about your accident. That much gamma exposure should have killed you."

"So you're saying that the Hulk… the other guy saved my life. That's nice. It's a nice sentiment. Saved it for what?" And all of a sudden it clicks. I know exactly who Dr. Bruce Banner is.

"I guess we'll find out."

"You may not enjoy that."

"And you just might. Hey, Princess Leia, what are you doing here? Trying to get all the information you can back to Jabba the Hut?"

"No. I was following Steve around, or vice versa. Either way, I decided that I might as well get acquainted with Iron Man and the… and Dr. Banner while I can."

"Oh, well, nice to make your acquaintance. Now, we're doing science stuff in here. So, unless you're a genius in thermonuclear astrophysics or the like…"

I smile sarcastically. "Are you trying to tell me to get out?'

"In the nicest way possible."

"Well, then. I guess I'll be moving along." I stand up and walk out.

So what have I learned today? Tony Stark is quite a jerk. Tony Stark has means of learning SHIELD's secrets. I need to make friends with Tony Stark.

Great! All that and I didn't even plan to interact with Stark... At all. Things are actually going quite well. So, now, what is the deal with Thor?


	16. To Be Honest

I _am_ trying to get to talk to Thor. I really am. But, for some reason or another, useful people keep throwing themselves into my path.

Natasha Romanoff (isn't that what she said her name was?) starts talking to me. "Hey, they needed some help in the computer operations division."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't work here."

A look of recognition sweeps over her face. "Oh, you're her. I didn't recognize you without your PJ's on."

I shrug. "Well, what're you gonna do? Natasha, right?"

"That's right. Abby?"

"Yep. Hey, sorry I couldn't give you any more on Barton. I met him very, very briefly."

She shakes her head and drops her gaze. "No, it's fine."

I think the intended effect has taken place. "Are you okay?"

"Listen, I don't really want to talk about it. What's done is done, and things will play out like they're supposed to. There's no point in fretting about it."

Mayday! Mayday! Plan A just crashed and will burn if I don't take care of it in a jiffy. "I agree. But then, fate is weird, isn't it? Things don't always go the way we plan."

"Are you trying to get something out of me, Brandon? Does Loki think he needs information about me?"

Well, she's a bit more perceptive (and matter-of-fact) than I believed. It's time for a different approach. "Yes, actually, I am trying to get something out of you. However, you might be surprised that I'm working against Loki."

She seems to let her guard down for a split second, then it's back up. "I'm listening," she says, prejudice dripping from her voice.

"Do you have time for a sob story?"

"I don't have time for any kind of story. I just want to know what you're planning on doing."

There's a reason SHIELD hasn't disposed of Loki yet, so I imagine that no one who works for them would be too keen on the idea of killing him. "He's holding me to a life debt, and I want to get out of it."

"Listen, I only deal with my own business. Debts are tough, I get that, but it's your problem."

This chick is tough as nails. I'm not especially good at making friends, and she's making it harder than it has ever been. "Listen, Natasha. I just want to get home."

"Click your heels three times, see if that works."

"Mercy's sake! Everyone here is as bad as Loki. Put yourself in my place! I'm a slave who's used to freedom with a family at home that needs my help desperately. What would you do? Stand by and watch them take on everything from medical bills to house payments by themselves?"

Note to self: yelling at people and insulting them is not how you make friends.

"You have a family?" inquires Natasha incredulously.

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"They need you?"

"My dad's in a coma and my mom has been working her head off. I'm not sure of anything else."

"Listen, I can't do much for you. SHIELD watches me like a hawk," she says with a twinge of annoyance.

"You? Aren't you, like, Miss 'I'm best friends with Shield.'?"

She rolls her eyes. "Not in the least. I'm only here because... never mind."

"Because why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She's not the only one who can be perceptive. "Is this about Barton?"  
She takes a breath as though she's about to counter the assertion, but answers me anyway. "Yes."

I remember how I reacted when Thor took Loki out of the jet. I needed him back regardless of my angst against him. I think about how Natasha has been wanting to get Barton back. I remember her implying that she can sympathize with the whole "life debt" situation.

"Do you owe Barton your life?"  
"I owe him more than that."

"Believe me, I know how that is." I mirror the words she said to me on the jet. "I have a proposition, Natasha. We both need something that the other person could help get. If you help me obtain my freedom, I will, in turn, do everything in my power to get Clint back."

Her eyes light up at the prospect. However, she is obviously intelligent enough to not take up my offer right away.

"I'm gonna think about it, then I'll get back to you. But don't get your hopes up. I try to play it safe when it comes to SHIELD."

"Understood, Romanoff. Can I get an answer by lunch, tomorrow?"

She walks off without a response.

So, there is a possible ally. Now, seriously, I need to talk to Thor


	17. And Finally: Thor

It takes me a solid hour to find Thor, but when I do find him, there is no way I can overlook him.

The guy is ridiculously tall, and he wears clothes that would only exist if _Star Wars_ and _Lord of the Rings_ had a baby. You could probably hear his voice, like, six yards away. He has a severe case of muscles, and his hair is long, unlike most male agents here who either have a military buzz or no hair at all.

I start to make my way to him.

"Hold on." An agent in a tight brown bun interrupts my journey. "I need you to take these to Director Fury's bunker," she says while dropping two heavy binders in my arms. She walks off before I crawl my way out of confusion and tell her I don't work here.

"Mercy…" I mumble.

I continue to push my way through the crowd. Actually, it doesn't involve much pushing. It appears the binders give me the right of way. Cool.

When I finally make it to Thor, I drop the binders on the table he's standing next to.

"Ah, Abby Brandon," he greets. "Have you, too, joined the warriors of SHIELD?"

How many times do I have to say I don't work here? "No, I haven't. It's not really my thing."

"Then what are those?" he questions, referring to the binders.

"Uh, Fury's junk, or so I'm told. I just hope they're not important, because I have no idea on how to get them to him," I reply, pushing them away from me.

He lets out a soft chuckle. Well, y'know, soft for a guy who clearly has no idea on how to even begin talking quietly. "I will make certain that they reach Director Fury."

"Really? Thanks," I say with a smile. He returns to watching the crowds.

"Hey," I begin. "I would like to personally apologize on behalf of human kind for all… this."

"You need not apologize. This is Loki's doing. I cannot blame your people for having ill will towards him."

Well, this is an extreme contrast to Natasha's response. He pretty much just flung the door to this conversation wide open.

"But you don't have 'ill will' towards him?"

"It seems impossible. Loki may despise me, but in my eyes he will always be my brother. Therefore, I cannot hate him."

I nod. "Yeah, I can totally relate. Well, y'know. I mean my siblings never killed anyone, so I wouldn't know anything about that, but…"

"Lady Abigail," Thor begins. I don't bother to correct him on my name. "I ask this as a personal favor, do not judge Loki too harshly. He has had a difficult life, much of which, I'm afraid is my doing."

"I- I don't understand."

"I have been a thorn in my brother's side for as long as he can remember. I did not realize how my behavior could affect him. I imagine that he has done these things out of a thirst for revenge on me."

I blink in confusion. "What could you have possibly done to warrant- you know, this stuff? What could he possibly- I mean, why- But, like, you're so... you're so nice."

"I don't believe I will ever know exactly what it is I have done, but I know this: living in the darkness of one's shadow can sometimes turn your mind to corruption."

I say something really intelligent like, "Oh… that's rough." Then I'm at a loss for words.

So Loki wasn't always a psychopath. (Sociopath? I always get the two confused.) So what was he before? Brother? Friend? What turned him so… evil?

I'm no Sherlock, but I can tell that Thor is telling the truth.

Well, regardless of what Loki was before, he's evil now. I need to get home, and he's a big brick wall that's stopping me. There's nothing wrong about me killing him. Right? I mean, I'll probably just be speeding things along. When someone's as downright villainous as he is, death should be inevitable.

I glance at my watch. "Well, look at the time. I'd better get some sleep. See ya around?" More accurately, _I'd better spend all night figuring out some way to kill your adopted brother. I hope that's ok with you. Let's be friends! Yay!_

"Of course," Thor replies.

So, children, what have we learned today?

Thor, aka the friendliest person in the universe, still loves his brother. I need to kill his brother, and that might not smooth over so well with Thor.

Loki was not always so bad. Nevertheless, he is bad now. Excruciatingly wicked. Therefore, it's ok. It would be like killing Scar from _The Lion King. _I mean… yeah.

I head back to my bunker. I'm about to actually fall asleep at a decent time when I remember: I can text Renée.

_HEY, _I write. _SO I'M GOING 2 COME DOWN, BUT I HAVE TO CLEAR UP A FEW LOOSE ENDS AT WORK. _

It takes her a while to text back. It must be really late there.

_OK. SO I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT TO KNOW HOW THE WHOLE "FIDDLER ON THE ROOF" THING WENT._

I tell her to give me every detail. She writes that she got the part of Hodel only to discover that Logan, the guy she likes, got the part of Perchik, Hodel's love interest. Things went well, and now she and Logan are dating.

It makes me want to go home so badly. I'm missing out. I should have never left for New York. I should've just stayed in Texas and become a teacher or something. It would've been a far cry better than what I am now.

I'm glad she leaves the subject of work and such alone. She always has a sixth sense about what I'm feeling. Even through SMS.

We talk into the late hours of the night, and then the early hours of the morning.

I think she eventually falls asleep, because she starts to misspell things more and then quits responding altogether.

As for myself, I start to snooze as soon as I turn off the phone.

Only to be awoken three hours later.

Stupid SHILED must have some stupid alarm clock siren built into their stupid hovercraft.

I can't wake up. Not after only three hours of sleep. I fall asleep for an additional five hours.

I wake up and realize that it's well after breakfast and it's… actually lunch-time. Yep.

So I make my way to the cafeteria, grab a bowl of macaroni and cheese, and sit down at a table towards the back.

I've only taken a few bites when Natasha slams her tray down in front of me. She sits down mumbling, "I'm in."


	18. God Bless America, Just Not With Me

I have been spending a lot of time with Natasha Romanoff. It's probably not healthy for my sanity. When she's not a mile and a half ahead of me, she's pushing me along.

She's really anxious to get Clint Barton back before Loki kills him or worse. I think she's overreacting a bit. I don't think Loki wants to kill people unless it helps his plotting, and Clint Barton, I'm sure, has been nothing but helpful. I may be wrong, but still.

We're going over our notes and such when Steve walks up.

"Hey, Steve, Stevie, Steven!" I say trying to subtly conceal my notes that I entitled "How to be a Successful AsSASSin."

"Hi. What are you up to?"

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "I could ask you the same thing."

Natasha takes the more direct approach. "This is mandatory, Rogers. I have to go over some paperwork with her."

Steve looks skeptical. "Paperwork?"

Natasha nods. "Paperwork."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright. Can it wait?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Well, I was just going to get some coffee and I was wondering if Abby wanted to get some, too."

Natasha sighs and slowly turns to looks at me.

I raise my eyebrows pleadingly.

"Go," is the only thing she has to say.

I bolt up. "C'mon, Steve."

Steve takes me to a sort of Starbucks for secret agents. I mean, they've even got a kind of Frappuccino which is good because I don't drink straight, black coffee. The only thing I find strange is the large chalkboard that reads: "NO SMASHING/THROWING CUPS ON THE GROUND. I'M LOOKING AT YOU, THOR."

We get our drinks and sit down.

"So, I was thinking, I don't know too much about you in general."

He laughs. "No, and I don't know much about you. But I feel like I've known you a long time."

I smile genuinely. It feels good to do that. "Yeah, but anyway. For starters, where are you from?"

"Brooklyn. And you said you were from Texas?"

"Originally, yeah. I moved to New York only a couple years ago. Okay next question: do you have any siblings?"

His eyebrows furrow. "I had a younger brother. His name was Albert, but he passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"S'okay. It's been a really long time so I've had time to move on. You have siblings if my memory is correct. How many?"

"Three. Two sisters, one brother, and I'm the oldest. Okay, let me see. How old are you?"

He throws his head back and laughs. Apparently, I just said something really funny. I don't get it.

"Well, what's the answer?" I confusedly laugh out.

He regains his cool, looks me dead in the eye, and says, "I am ninety-six years old."

"No, seriously."

"I am being serious. I'm almost one hundred."

This is certainly a strange… thing. "What? No way! C'mon."

"Let me tell you how it happened." Then he starts the whole story of how he was born as a sickly little kid (another thing I couldn't believe given the amount of muscles this guy has.) He tells me about how he wanted to be in the army but couldn't. He goes on to tell about how he signed up for an experiment which gave him muscles and how it slowed down the aging process and how it helped him survive under ice.

When he finishes, I sit there with an empty cup in hand, staring in to it. I chuckle softly. "I'm not gonna lie," I finally whisper. "That's kind of weird. Especially since I think of you as my little brother and you're old enough to be my great-grandfather."

Steve raises his eyebrow. "Your little brother?"

"Yeah, but that hasn't changed. I mean, you still remind me of Bobby, but you're old. Like, really old. That's just sort of weird, but it doesn't change anything, and _that's _weird."

"Do I really remind you of your baby brother?"

Oops. That wasn't really something I wanted to tell him. It was one of those secrets like if you have a crush on someone. Except I pretty much just told him he reminds me of a fourteen-year-old.

"Well, yeah, but I still think of you as an adult, just one who has the same kind of personality as my brother and I feel obligated to protect." Great, I'm sure I just made things a thousand times worse.

"I get that. You remind me somewhat of my mother. Except, you're a lot younger and you don't look like her at all, but you're still pretty."

I feel a blush creep up my neck. By the look on Steve's face, I can tell that was something he didn't want to tell me.

Nick Fury barges in and orders a coffee. I glare at him from across the room. He doesn't notice. It doesn't feel right to see him so… human.

"So that's it," Steve says.

"What's it?" I reply, my attention snapping back to him.

"I remind you of your brother. That's why you don't like anyone at SHIELD except me. I mean, you do like me, right?"

I smile brightly. "Sure I do! You're a great guy."

Steve beams. "You're not too bad yourself, Miss Brandon."

"Why, thank you."

We stay for about a half-hour longer, talking about ourselves and cracking jokes. I drink about three Frappuccino's making me pretty hyper-active. I think if it wasn't Steve, the person sitting in front of me would've been scared.

We would've sat there for a lot longer if it hadn't been for an agent telling Steve that he was needed elsewhere.

"Hey, this's been fun," I tell Steve. "We should do it again."

"Yeah. So, I'll see ya later?"

"Count on it."

Without so much as a warning, Steve leans in and kisses my cheek.

Then he leaves.

Oh! How could I have been so stupid? He likes me. I think. No, no, no, no. He can't like me. I don't like him back. I don't think I can. And now I'm worried, because the last time someone liked me, they ended up as a lifeless body on the ground.

I revive an old habit I had quit when I was sixteen. I start to bite my nails. I don't want to hurt Steve and I don't want him dead and I don't want to like someone or be liked _by_ someone. I want to go home and forget that there _is _a SHIELD.

I want to punch a wall. What could I have done to lead him on? I'm a stupid, stupid girl. That's it. I'm a girl, not a woman. I never grew up. I'm still blind and unfeeling and… confused. So confused.

I can't let Steve Rogers get attached to me. I won't let him. It's for his own good. I can't hurt him. I have only one goal. I have to kill Loki and get my family back. Friends aside. Honor aside. Conscience aside. I have to do this without any distractions, or who knows what kind of mental facility I'll end up in.


	19. Psycho

Natasha snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Hello," she calls. "Are you still alive?"

I break out of the trance I had been in. "What? No. I mean, yes. Sorry."

She stares at me as though she expects me to fall back into my state of half-consciousness. I shake my head, shaming myself mentally. We've been planning Loki's demise for two weeks, and I have never been this unfocused.

"I apologize," I say. "Please, continue."

"I was just saying that I think I should go and talk to Loki. I might be able to…" I return to staring at my hands. She eventually stops talking. Perhaps she realizes that my head isn't entirely in the game at the moment.

I notice the silence. It sticks out like a sore thumb. "Are you going to keep talking, or what?"

She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. "No, I'm not. You're obviously not paying attention."

I roll my eyes upward. "I am paying utmost attention, Natasha."

She smirks. "Yeah? I doubt you remember the last thing I said."

I shrug. "Does it matter? Just repeat it, if you have so little faith in me. Why don't we- and by 'we' I mean 'you'- just go psycho-crazy, get a little trigger-happy, and solve all of our problems."

She gives me a look that clearly states that she is unimpressed. "That's not an option and you know it. What is wrong with you?"

I prop my elbows on the table that separates and bury my face in my hands. "Life," I mumble. "Life is wrong with me. That and the fact that you guys have no ice-cream to make life better."

I can sense Tasha's annoyance. "You're being overly dramatic. For real, what's wrong?"

I sit up and grimace. "My phone died." It was true. Steve was a saint for bringing me my phone. Unfortunately, being from the 40's must have a good number of disadvantages, and he didn't bet my charger. I've lost all contact with my family for the second time.

Nat raises her eyebrows, surprised. "Just now? I would've thought that thing's battery ran out a while ago."

"Well, I was on a battery budget. I suppose I was just avoiding the inevitable. It's kind of similar to the fact that I avoid death."

"Are you done making metaphors about how your phone died?"

I smirk at her. "I only made one. Is that all the human race gets? One chance to bring meaning to something before society shoots them down?"

She slams her head down on the table. "Please, stop."

"Oh, so now you ask nicely. Is that how the world solves its problems? First with aggression and then with forced kindness?"

She looks up at me, but just barely. "You're causing a commotion, Abby."

I sprang up from my seat. "I don't cause a commotion. I am one! I am the oncoming storm, the Bringer of Darkness! I'm a high-functioning sociopath. I am Divergent. I can't be controlled! I am a sorcerer! I have magic! I am the girl on fire! And, honey, you should see me in a crown!" I slam my hands down on the table, grab my Frappuccino, take a sip, and sit down calmly, ignoring all the people who were staring.

Tasha stares at me in horror. "How many of those things have you had?" she enquires, referring to my drink.

"Um, like three or something."

She nods. "Okay. I think you need to go run somewhere or something. Burn your energy."

I squint at her. "I'm not a kid, Natasha. I'm fine. Speak to me."  
"I was going to talk to Loki, see what I can get out of him."

I nod enthusiastically. "That's genius. We should definitely do that."

"I'm going to do this by myself. Loki already knows you and your intentions. He won't tell you anything."

I slump in my seat. "What am I supposed to do?"

Nat shrugs. "Go sit around the control room. Get any info you can. Stuff like that."

This is her pleasant way of telling me to stay out of her way. I am an adult. I can handle that. I just wish that there were a few more traces of my expertise in the master plan.

Three hours later, I have walked around the control room fifty times, told people I don't work here, noticed someone left their GALAGA game open, beat the high score on their GALAGA game, etc. To sum it all up, I am bored.

One Avenger occupies the room. However, Thor hasn't noticed me yet. I guess that's just what happens when you're so insignificant. However friendly that man may be, I am not going to draw attention to myself. One, I've already gone a little fandom-crazy. Two, I might miss out on vital information. (Not that I think anything is going to come up, but it might.)

I can tell he's upset. He appears to be watching security footage. Please tell me he isn't listening in to Nat's and my conversations.

I allow myself a closer look. I'm close enough to hear and see, but far enough away to avoid suspicion.

He's watching Loki and Natasha. I see Natasha stare in horror as Loki speaks.

"You lie and kill," Loki says, "in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you, and they will never go away." He slams his fist on the glass.

I see legitimate fear in the eyes of Natasha. It is something I have never seen before and hope to never see again. It makes me question everything I know to see strong, steady Natasha appear so weak and vulnerable.

Loki continues with his speech. "I won't touch Barton, not until I make him kill you, slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull."

Natasha turns away, I doubt she'll be able to take much more.

Thor storms off mumbling, "No, no, this is not like him."

I scramble to the screen and sit as close as I can.

"This is my bargain, you mewling quim."

"You're a monster," sniffles Natasha."

"Oh, no, you brought the monster."

I flick off the video. I hate that man. He cannot—will not—ever speak to any of my friends this way again. I've had enough. I revoke every promise I have ever made to him. He deserves to die, and now I have a plan.


	20. Execution

**Yes, yes, dear followers. I'm aware it has been forever. I WAS BUSY. I went to Disney World, there was Christmas and school. I know this is nothing you haven't heard before, but my apologies. Continue.**

"Natasha?" I knock on her door. I can hear her sobbing on the other side. She's shut herself in and I don't know what to do for her. "Natasha, please, let me in."

"Go away."

I roll my eyes. "Natasha I heard what Loki said to you, and it was wrong and messed up, but you're acting like a teenager."

She flings the door open finally, but she has a dangerous look in her eyes. So maybe I shouldn't have added the teenager bit. "What exactly did you hear?" she asks.

"Not all of it, I'm sure."

She crosses her arms and leans up against the doorway. "So you didn't hear about anything like… ledgers or something?"

I roll my eyes upward in thought. "Um, no, I don't think so."

She closes her eyes and exhales as though she's relieved. "Listen, I know what you're trying to do, but I'm tough and I can handle myself."

I nod. She's been emotionally scared, and I hate taking advantage of that, but I need to. "I know. That being said, let's discuss plans. Keep your mind off of everything Loki said. We both need to focus on this. We're running out of time."

She nods and invites me in. I walk in and she shuts the door behind me.

"So, I was thinking," I begin.

"Uh-oh."

"You and I both know that, due to my former status of 'unintelligent extra in the grand scheme of things,' I am less than helpful."

She shrugs. "I wasn't going to make a big deal about it."

I shake my head quickly. "No, no, no, you don't get it. This is very important to me. I want to be able to hold some significance in our bargain. So, getting back to the point, I am very, very good with tech," I lie.

Natasha raises her eyebrows suspiciously. "Is that so?"

"Yes, and, that being established, you could focus on the ninja bit of it while I worry about the electrical bit."

She holds on to her dead expression. "Tempting."

"I know right! Of course, I will need to get an understanding of what's available to us."

She turns her eyes toward the ceiling. "How good are we talking here?"

I hesitate. I really need this to work. Can't back out now. "I'm pretty sure I'm a genius."

Eventually, Natasha gives in and takes me to a room reserved for tech-y gadgets.

We discuss the things we know while we browse the super advanced tech SHIELD has to offer. Apparently, after I turned off the video, Loki made a mistake and clued Natasha in on his plans. He means to unleash the Hulk. Which is SUPER genius. A+ planning, Loki. A+. Not.

A few hours later, Natasha brings out a briefcase with a number keypad.

In the briefcase is the exact tool I need. I turn it over in my hands. "So it's an assortment of wires that goes over your face?"

She nods. "And you can look like anyone you need to."

Oh, that's good because I was just going to go through with this hoping that my hair would cover my face enough to conceal my identity. Of course, I'm not going to use the thing. I probably couldn't figure it out if someone told me exactly what to do. However, it will come in handy.

She continues to introduce me to different gadgets, not noticing my lack of interest in anything else.

So now I have the plans and the means to execute them. (Not to mention that, in her moment of emotional vulnerability, Natasha showed me where they keep the guns.)

I've stayed up late. Severely late. Most people do around here, but there is eventually a time when few man the controls and even fewer roam the halls. This is perfect because I need somebody who has enough business on this boat to stay up this late and exactly zero witnesses.

I have taken up temporary residence in a broom closet, but not just any broom closet. This particular sanitary headquarters has something I need. It contains a whole lot of jars like you would see in a lab. They could knock someone out easily with my force applied.

I listen for hours it seems. I stand, jar in hand, waiting to hear the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. When the sound comes, I am unprepared. They pass me by.

I open the door and creep silently toward the man in a suit. I flinch as I bring the jar down on his balding head. He's out.

I check his pulse. Alive, then. Thank mercy. I don't want to kill anyone. That's a Loki thing.

So, Agent … Coulson, you are the next contestant on "Be a Part of Abby's Ingenious Plot."

I drag his limp body the long way to the gun cabinet, which, with much effort "he" is able to open with his hand.

I choose a simple handgun. I can easily fire this thing. I've been shooting before with my dad. Mercy, I wish he was here. I have to get to him. I have to get to my family.

I still have one more job for this particular agent. He needs to get me into Loki's cell. It's a long way off, but if I don't do this, everything will be in vain and I will be a criminal for nothing. Fun.

I'm going to stop here to point something out. I have amazing luck. This is a good thing because most of my plan relies on it. Of course, running into Loki wasn't the best thing to happen to me, and I can't think about Jared anymore. Not to mention my dad in his coma. But overall, on little things like sweepstakes, I get extremely lucky.

This luck has come in handy as I have run into no one on my little journey. That would be hugely embarrassing. Not to mention it would completely destroy my plot. I can see it now. "Whoa, is he unconscious?" "Yeah, he passed out. Radiation or something science-y." "Wait, aren't you Loki's little prisoner?" "Um…" "Ma'am I'm going to have to take you in." I shudder at the thought.

I finally reach the cell room. Coulson's hand is enough to get me in. I leave the agent outside.

Loki looks up at the sound of the door opening. His face spells the word "confusion."

He speaks quietly. "Abby?"

"Hey, Mr. Mischief," I say with a smile on my face. I'm able to open the cell door with the push of a button. I cock the gun and aim it at Loki's forehead. "Miss me?"

**Whoa... Intense. Psycho-crazy OC alert. Hope you enjoyed. I have plenty of inspiration for the next chapter, so it shouldn't be so long. 'Til next time -TARDIS-elf**


	21. The Mind of a Villain

For a while, Loki says nothing. His eyes shift back and forth between me and the gun. Then he laughs. He _laughs _with a gun in his face. Idiot.

"I must say," he begins. "I'm surprised that I'm surprised. I was truthfully not expecting you to be driven mad."

I glare at him. "I'm not crazy. I just know what needs to be done." I throw in the line that just might save my neck after the deed is done. "For the good of SHIELD." I look into the security camera and shatter it with a bullet. There, that part covered.

I repoint the gun at my original target. "So, let me tell you how this is going to work. Basically, I'm going to list my reasons for killing you so I can see the regret in your eyes before the light dims. After I finish with that, I will blow your brains out."

Loki smirks. "I see."

I shrug. "That's in mild terms. It _is_ dirty work, but somebody's got to do it. Please restrain yourself to little or no interruption." I'm surprised at how ruthless I'm acting. I don't even care, but a part of me cares that I don't care.

"Alright, so, point number one: my family needs me desperately, and you couldn't find the mercy to release me from a stupid debt. Think about it, Loki. What would you do if it was _your_ mother who needed _your_ help."

He glowers at me, but I can almost feel the guilt emanating off of him. I apparently hit close to home. Good.

"Reason two: you hurt my friend. _Nobody_ hurts my friends. You drove _Natasha Romanoff _to weakness. Anyone capable of doing that should be eliminated. The person who hurts my friends _gets_ hurt."

Loki rolls his eyes. "So, you saw that, did you?"

I scowl. "You better believe I saw it.

"Reason three. Note: this is my last point so brace yourself for excruciating pain. Reason three: You are a monster. You have no good in you whatsoever. People like you don't belong anywhere. So, in getting rid of you, I pay a service to the entire universe."

Loki trembles with pure rage. I've seen him angry before, but this is different. "How dare you! I have only ever lived up to everyone's expectations of me!"

His hands begin to turn a ghastly shade of blue, and his eyes redden. I stare in horror as he continues.

"I have only ever been cheated and lied to! You- You only know comfort! You think yourself above me. Why? Is it because someone cares about you somewhere in a lonely world? You lie to yourself. You are every bit equal to me. We both crave the same thing: a little welcome in the world, a little less suffering. We are guided by our fear and chase power because of it."

The blueness creeps up his neck a spreads itself across his face.

"We will both break our vows. We will both kill to ensure our own success. If everything I have said makes me a monster, it makes you one, too!"

I pull the gun back in shock, but I remember myself and stick it out again. "I'm not- I'm not a monster. I'm human in every sense of the word. I'm- I'm good."

He stares at me with desperation. "Have you not felt it? Is there not even now fear of yourself tugging at your mind, in your soul?"

There's a buzz in my ear and I feel so dizzy. I can't think. "No, I'm not scared! I just want to go home. This is- this is fine. I'm not afraid!"

"You're fighting it, Abby. It's no use. I know. I've been where you are."

Hot tears roll down my face. I'm shaking, and it's not due to the sudden transformation of Loki. Fear of myself. Scared of the one person I can't escape. I'm not a monster. I don't want to be.

I look at the weapon in my hand. Just pull the trigger. That's all I have to do, and I'm free. Just pull the trigger.

The gun is too heavy and it burns my hand. I can't stand it. I let it fall to the ground.

I look up at Loki who stares at his own blue hands in disgust. "There now, Abby," he mutters. "It seems we have seen each other for who we truly are."

A searing pain surges through my head. I cry out from the sheer pain of it and sink to my knees. I knot my fingers in my hair and scream. I can feel everything. The lies, the hurt, the rejection, the betrayal all crawl inside my mind like parasites and rip it to shreds.

My back begins to sting as though there are open wounds crossed over it. My wrists and ankles feel like they've been rubbed raw and my limbs ache. Invisible insects crawl up and down my arms and legs and inside the wounds on my back, biting and stinging. I swat at them to no avail. I feel acid drip down my face. It burns mercilessly into my skin. I can feel blood dripping down my chin from my mouth. There is no way I can move without bringing on another wave of excruciating pain.

The only sound I'm aware of is Loki shouting at the air. "Leave her alone! You don't have to hurt her!"

"What is happening to me?" I cry.

Loki looks at me with a look I have never before seen on his face: empathy. "It will pass," he says. "I swear to you it will pass."

Images flash before my mind. Every emotion and pain that I'm experiencing has been felt before. So much agony has composed Loki's life, and, for some reason, I'm being made to feel it.

Everything ends just as abruptly as it started. I curl into fetal position, breathing heavily and crying. After everything, there was no blood. Nothing I felt was real. It's as if the torture was never there. I am scarred, nonetheless.

I hear Loki walk over to me, and I remember that it was his memories I was going through. He crouches down and says softly, "You need to stand."

He offers me his hand, which I take, and he pulls me to my feet.

I stare at an undetermined spot on the ground. There are a million thoughts running through my head and no thoughts. I feel as though I can't function.

Loki picks up my gun and puts it in my hands. "Get out," he demands. "Now." He walks back into the cell.

I should obey him. If I stay for much longer, I'll be caught. However, I need confirmation of my suspicions. "Loki," I begin. "What I was… what I felt was… torture. I couldn't feel anything except pain and hurt."

He doesn't say anything.

I continue. "Was—was that your life? Your mind?"

Loki hesitates. "Yes," he finally says. "It was small portion of it. I'm sorry you had to live it."

A small portion… What other torment could he have possibly survived through?

I walk out the door. The agent I knocked out is starting to wake up. I sprint away as fast as I can. I return the gun to the cabinet.

For over three weeks, I've been insane. Loki's right. I've become a monster.

My sense of humanity has been thrown out the window. I've broken promises. I've lied. I've tried to kill.

It's time I remembered who I was, who I can be again. I can be good.

I'm still a prisoner, and I don't think that that will ever change. But, hey, others have had it worse than me. Namely Loki… And Jared.

Oh, mercy. Jared. What did he die for? I'm no better than his murderers.

I walk into the control room where alarms are blaring. I forgot. What I did was more or less illegal.

I backtrack to my room and lock myself in.

Mercy, my plan was stupid. I'm still going to have to try to pull it off, but it has got to be the most idiotic plan I've come up with.

It's not long before someone pounds on my door. I open the door to see Nick Fury and an entourage of guards. Every one of them has a hostile look on their faces.

"Director," I greet.

"Brandon," he replies. "There has recently been a break-in to the cell where Loki is currently being held. Would you happen to know anything about it?"

I raise my eyebrows in an attempt to appear surprised. "No, but kudos to them."

Fury glares at me. I would know that look on anyone. I'm his top suspect. Shocking.

"Ma'am, we're going to take you into custody for questioning."

It appears I'm going to have to tell a few more lies.


	22. Consequences of Failed Crime

Fury takes me to a proper interrogation room. There's nothing in it except a table and a couple of chairs.

I take my seat and wait for him to start talking. He never does. He just stares at me like his glare is enough to burn a hole through my head.

I put on a façade of self-righteousness. I try to convey offense at being taken in like this. I stare back in utter defiance.

Fury and I wait for the other to speak. The player who makes the first move is the loser. I'm determined to win.

Your play, Director.

Fury leaves briefly and returns with a tablet. The screen portrays what appears to be security footage. My face is all over it.

I try to appear confused. How could that be me? I was in my room the entire time! I hope and pray I'm a good actress.

Fury speaks, "Care to explain that, Miss Brandon?"

I win.

I infuse my voice with bewilderment. "I don't know how that could've happened. Don't you dare ask me to explain it, because I have no theory on how someone could be wearing my face."

"You deny you did it then?"

My mouth drops open in false disbelief. "Of course, I deny it! What do you expect me to do? Admit to something I haven't done?"

Fury crosses his arms. "From the moment you arrived here you have made your disgust for Loki quite clear. You have told us you were imprisoned under Loki. You have family halfway across America, Miss Brandon. Why wouldn't it be you behind that gun?"

"Because, Director Fury, I am a person of morals. Unlike your little team thing, I know that killing is wrong. I couldn't kill someone, Loki or no, if I wanted to, which I most certainly do not!"

It goes on like that. He asks questions that I am able to respond to with a lie. Every falsehood I tell drains my energy. My head is clouded trying to keep my story straight.

All the while, Fury knows. I know he knows. He knows I know he knows. But that's the thing about the law. I'm innocent until proven guilty. With technology like Natasha showed me, my face proves little.

Eventually, Fury can think of no more traps for me to fall into. I know it's not the end, though. This was just round one.

I'm escorted back to my room by an entourage of guards. I wonder why I'm allowed to return until I remember that my room is high security. So, when you think about it, I've been living in a cell this entire time.

I lie down on my bed and think about nothing, which is good when you're tired. It's also good after a long month of nothing but revenge on your mind and hate in your soul.

I fall asleep for a short while. I have nightmares. Every torture I have felt over the past few hours works its way back into my dreams. I force myself awake.

I sit up and curl into fetal position. This is Loki's mind. This is potentially what he goes through every single night.

_I can't just sit like this_, I think _I have to move around. _I stand up and begin to pace. My mind is no longer idle. In fact, it's running at a hundred miles an hour. My future has been put in peril. I am still determined to get home, but I have to get out of SHIELD, first. Unfortunately, I'm being held.

Beside all that, I have a debt to Loki who I am determined to never hurt again so long as I live (aside from little friendly slaps across the face.)

The fact that I have no friends in SHIELD is another factor. Natasha will know it was me no matter what, and I can't lie to Steve. Thor is hardly likely to help me, Dr. Banner hardly knows me, and I probably wouldn't take Stark's help if he offered it. Plus, I also beat that one guy's GALAGA score so he's probably first in line to see me in trouble.

All these thoughts vanish from my mind when I hear a voice behind me.

"Would you stop pacing? It is _very_ irritating." It's Loki.

I jump and whirl around to face him. "How did you get in here and more importantly why?"

"Well, which question do you want me to answer first?"

I glare at him. Despite everything, there is still something about this man that annoys me to death. I sigh deeply. "How?"

"I'll put it in simple terms so that you may understand it better. It's magic. Something of a hologram."

I furrow my eyebrows. "They have magic in Asgard?"

"Not exactly. Only the intelligent have a chance in using it properly. Meaning, I wouldn't attempt it if I were you. You could severely hurt yourself." He smirks like he wasn't about to die a few hours ago.

I roll my eyes. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Aren't you hilarious?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Smart-aleck.

"Alright, Mr. Mischief, _why_ are you here?"

"I'm incredibly bored," he sighs.

I stay silent, waiting for him to say something else. Apparently, that's it. "Okay!" I say, dragging out the 'o.' "Sorry, you're bored. Privacy is privacy and you need to get out now."

"You're making an awful lot of commands for a debtor."

"My room, Mr. Magical Smurf."

He squints. "Shall I spare my sanity and refrain from inquiring what a Smurf is?"

I regain my seat on my bed. "Since you asked, it's a little blue thing that's super annoying. Like you."

He rolls his eyes. "Rather a Smurf than a bilchsteim."

I stare in confusion. "What did you call me?"

He acts like it's strange I don't know what that is. "Bilchsteim? Huge, scaly, big antlers? You mean to tell me Midgard doesn't have them?"

I shake my head. "Never heard of 'em, but anyway… Care to explain the blue stuff?"

"No."

"Wow. Okay. Sorry. Bye." I look at him, expecting him to leave. He doesn't.

"Must you always be so… aggravating?"

I shrug. "Eh, spend some time with yourself. You'll get it. Oh, and, by the way, I still hold to the belief that if I'm causing you that much trouble, you should let me go."

He runs his hand over his face. Evidently, I am annoying him. Well, at least I'm good for _something._

"Do you really have to know?"

I cross my arms. "I am burning with curiosity."  
"If I tell you, do you swear to remain as silent as you can until the end of my story?"

I laugh. "This seems awfully familiar."

"Do you swear?"

I nod. "Sure. I promise."

"Then," he sighs. "Prepare yourself for a long tale."


	23. A Study in Blue

"How much do you know about Norse mythology?"

"Not much."

"Well, I don't recommend researching it. It's terribly inaccurate, but there is an aspect of it that coincides with truth. There are two beings that are constantly at war with each other in these accounts: the Asgardians and the Giants.

Thor's father Odin is the king of Asgard and fought in a number of the very first battles between the two races. His archenemy was Laufey, the leader of the Frost Giants.

Well, it happened that there was a great battle in Jotunheim, the realm of the Frost Giants, and Laufey was killed by Odin. However, Laufey fought bravely to the end of his life and therefore earned Odin's respect.

In honor of his fallen opponent, and in hopes to bring about peace, Odin took in Laufey's son, an infant, disguised him as an Asgardian, and raised him as his own, never telling the boy of his true parentage.

Much time passed, and the Asgardians and the Frost Giants ignored each other, for the most part. There was tension, of course, but everyone tried to pretend it wasn't there. All Asgardians are raised on the belief that Frost Giants are evil, mindless beasts, and everyone agreed.

Thor and Laufey's son had both come of age to inherit the throne. Thor was chosen to be the king, naturally. After all, Odin couldn't have a Frost Giant sitting on the Asgardian throne.

To make a rather lengthy story short, Thor started to pay attention to the Frost Giants. War broke out. It was then that, literally in the heat of battle, Laufey's son discovered who he was. He was the monster that he and his brother had once dreamt of slaying in droves. He was the very thing he hated."

It doesn't take me a half-second to understand his story. "And you're Laufey's son?"

He nods. "Yes, unfortunately."

"And that's why you turn blue?"

"Yes. It is the coloring of the Frost Giants."

I'm furious. Severely furious. "You mean to tell me, that you were raised to hate yourself just because you're… you're _different_?"

"No, I was raised to hate myself because I am a monster, as you so eloquently pointed out. It's quite simple."

I spring up from my seat. "Oh no. No. No. That's just _wrong._ You shouldn't be… defined depending on where or who you were born to. No, you are defined by what you do. You and I, we don't have to be monsters. We _chose_ it. Furthermore, we can change it."

Loki shakes his head slowly. "How does the adage go? A leopard can't change its spots."

I stand a while. Thinking. Then I begin to speak softly. "They say a leopard can't change its spots, but we're not leopards. We're people. We can- to some extent- 'change our spots,' I think."

It's quiet for a long while. I look up just to see the look on his face. He seems sorrowful. For just a split-second, I think I see his eyes flash from the normal blue to green.

"Well, at least one of us has a sliver of hope for our wretched selves."

I try to bring back my regular attitude. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I thought you were going to become Mr. High-and-mighty Emperor-of-earth-and-everything-in-it."

He smirks a bit. "Where's _your_ hope in that situation?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm your friend, you dork. Friends of emperors are rich. I still hope you lose, but if you don't, I will slap your face if I'm not making a few million a month."

His eyes are back to their usual color now. "Are you still against the idea of me being the ruler of such a worthless land?"

I nod. "Adamantly."

He sighs in an over-exaggerated show of arrogance. "Very well, you may have your own opinion. But be it known that 'a few million a month' is not included in that agreement."

I shrug. "Neither is slapping your face, and yet…"

He laughs. "We shall see, o pathetic mortal. I will leave now. Best of luck with…" He gestures to my cell. "All this."

"Thank you. And best of luck with… all that."

"Thank you."

"Oh, by the way, I AM your friend, but I still hate you."

Loki nods. There's a hint of amusement on his face. "Likewise." And then he disappears.


	24. I Need You to Bail Me Out

**Hey guys. Long time, no see. This is really a bit of a filler chapter, so... Hey, I'm sorry okay? I've already got the better part of the next chapter written down on paper, so I should have it up pretty soon. *looks around* If I can find it. Don't worry. **

It has been a week since I tripped over my own insanity and landed in what might as well be an asylum. Every day is essentially a living nightmare. They bring me in, they question me, they let me eat, and they take me back. I am so tired from all the lies I've had to tell, and it's my own stupid fault.

It won't be long now. They've collected my fingerprints and DNA. That was the most awkward situation I have ever been through. The agent they sent to get it didn't even worry her head about saying hello. Rude.

I've been lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, doing absolutely nothing when there's a knock on my door. I don't want to answer it. However, I have so little choice in anything anymore, it doesn't even matter.

I sit up and rub my eyes. It's time for my daily interrogation. I hate my life.

"Come in," I mumble. I'm sure my voice is barely audible on the other side. Yet, the door opens.

Instead of the regular, random agent standing on the other side, it's Steve.

Of all the people I forgot during my lunacy, I forgot the person who has done nothing but help me since I got here. I was supposed to keep it together for his sake. The shame is overwhelming. He deserves an apology.

I look down at my feet. "Steve, I…"

He holds up his hand to silence me. "Don't, Abby, just don't. I'm not asking if you did it, so don't say."

I nod. "You have no idea how good it is to see you again. It's been a long time since I saw a friendly face."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I shrug. "It's no big deal. So, I assume you're here to take me to see Fury?"

Steve nods. "That's why I was sent."

I puff my cheeks full of air and exhale slowly. "Well, we shouldn't keep Fury waiting."

Steve leads me to the interrogation room. I walk inside and he remains at the door.

"I need to get going," he says. "Are you sure you're all right by yourself?"

"I've been alright by myself for a while now," I say, smiling. "Go do whatever you need to do. I'll be fine."

He begins to walk out the door, but stops and turns around. "I'll see you around."

"I sure hope so."

When he leaves, I fill the time by drumming my fingers on the table, singing "Let it Go," and reciting the entirety of _Beauty and the Beast_ (I watched it a lot as a kid, don't judge.)

It's taking Fury longer than usual to come in. I just want today to be over with. Is that too much to ask? Hurry it up, Director.

He finally enters, but he's holding files.

"Miss Brandon," he begins. "Were you aware that your fingerprints were all over that gun?"

That's it. No amount of lies will cover this up. It's over.

"So, what's the penalty, Director?" I inquire.

"Typically ten years. Once we land, we'll ship you off to the prison of choice. Until then, we'll keep you in your room."

I remain silent. "Do I get a phone call?"

He smirks. "One."

* * *

"Hello, Mom?" I start, holding the phone close to my face. After that one phrase, I have to hold it away from my face. I can still hear my mom screaming at me on the other end. "Momma. Mom, settle down. Mom."

"_No phone call! No text! No nothing, Abby Rebecca! I am not about to just settle down!"_

Sighing, I do my best to explain my lack of communication. "I know, Momma. I'm- I'm sorry. I wanted to call, but…"

"_But what?"_

I exhale slowly. If I tell my mom I'm in jail, she will hunt me down and murder me. "But I- I don't have a phone… anymore, but that's not important. How's Dad?"

"He's not awake, yet…" she breathes. "The doctors doubt that he'll ever wake up…"

I cover my mouth with my hand. "No. No, that's not right. They're wrong. They've got to be. Not Dad…" I blink back the tears that are starting to form. "He's going to wake up, Mom. Don't worry. He'll be fine."

"I hope so," she says softly. "We need you to come back, Abby. Soon. It's been so long…"

I look around at the guards watching me. Fury signals that my time on the phone is nearly up.

Typically ten years… And it's all my fault. "It might… It might be a little while longer. I'm trying."

_I tried, Mom,_ I think. _I failed_

"Just hurry, okay?"

"Okay." I sniff. "I have to go, Momma. I love you."

"_I love you, too."_

"Mom, I really, really love you. All of you."

In her voice are the signs of confusion. _"We love you, Abby. Call again soon."_

"I'll try, Momma. Goodbye," I say and hang up the phone.

I'm ready to break down in a mess of tears. What have I done?

I'm escorted to my room. My prison. I curl up in a ball on the bed and sob.

I tried to leave, for them. They needed me, and I was stupid, and I lost any hope of getting back to them.

My dad… Who knows if I'll ever talk to him again? If he doesn't wake up soon, I don't know what I'm going to do. He may never wake up.

I couldn't tell my mom about anything. I need her just as much as she needs me, and I couldn't even tell her the truth.

There's an explosion, or, at least, what I assume is an explosion. The whole helicarrier shakes with it.

"What's going on?" I call, hoping someone will hear me. "Anyone? What's happening?"

I walk to the door. The handle seems to be broken. I push on the door and it opens. Well, that was easy.

Debris is everywhere. I see a guard lying on the ground, covered in blood, unmoving.

There seem to be no other guards nearby.

It must be today. Loki's plan is finally falling into place.

**'Til next time. -TARDIS-elf.**


	25. A Civilian in the Battle

The Hulk's roar echoes throughout the entire ship. _Holy mercy,_ I think to myself. _It worked._ Loki has triggered the creature inside Dr. Banner, and now Bruce's alter-ego is running around, destroying who knows what or who?

Loki… That idiot is going to get himself killed. He's surrounded, and he's the commander of the attacking army. At this point, I'm pretty sure it's shoot first, ask questions later. That's my first thought as I make my way through the chaos to get to the cell room.

I don't even know why I'm going there. I could just stay run on my merry way, dodging the oncoming battle and keeping myself safe. Mercy, that sounds so selfish, and yet so appealing. I'll admit I have a history of being self-interested, and not caring about the consequences. But you just don't leave a friend to be murdered. Not even a friend you hate.

I sprint down the corridors, trying to remember the path to the cell room. Every now and again, I hear gunshots. Meaning people are dying within my earshot, even if I can't see it.

How close are the enemies? How long is it before they get to me?

I'm trying to keep calm. I really am. But explosions have a way of making your heart thud louder in your ears than it ever has before. So I keep running.

I don't slow down. Not once.

I don't even have a plan. What do I intend to do once I get to the cell room? Well, make sure Loki doesn't die, for one. Then what? Escape? Could I? I would, if I could; and if I can, I will. There. That's my plan.

I get as far as the control room.

Fury stands at a panel, flying the ship. He could spot me at any moment. Drag me back to my cell where another, unexpected explosion could reach me.

I guess it could be worse. At least I'm not still running around in pajamas. In fact, my outfit is deceptive. I'm able to hide in plain sight, only exposed if Fury does a double-take. So, as far as that aspect is concerned, the tables have turned.

I hear someone scream out, "Grenade!" Another explosion. This time it's directly in front of me. I feel the heat of it, but I'm far enough away so only the tiniest pieces of rubble bounce off of me.

Most of the agents begin to vacate immediately. I remain paralyzed. I realize that I am not exactly skilled at keeping a clear mind when people are having appendages blown off of their bodies.

I have to keep myself from passing out as enemy soldiers come into play.

Fury attacks them mercilessly, either killing or severely injuring all of them. Except one. This one has his rifle aimed at Fury, and he has the upper hand. An agent shoots him before he has the chance to kill Fury.

I have a flashback of someone dying who I was very close to. Shot down by a SHIELD agent just like he was. Who did this man leave behind? I wonder…

But I don't have time to wonder any longer. Fury spies me. I try to run, but he catches up with me quickly and grabs my arm.

"Let me go!" I protest.

"May I remind you, Miss Brandon, that you are still under custody of the United States government?" he scolded.

"May I remind you, Fury, that I am still human enough to want to run for my life when I hear explosions! If I stay put in a cell, I am going to die! Let. Go."

He glares at me, evaluating his options, I imagine.

More bad guys come in. Fury reacts immediately, firing at will.

"Get out of here," he barks.

Thank everything merciful he recognizes that a defenseless prisoner is not his top priority.

I keep going. Luckily, no one notices the direction I'm headed.

Someone has left the door to the cell room open. I stare into it a while before entering. Loki is not trapped in his cell. Thor is. Eh, nothing surprises me anymore.

I turn into the room just in time to see Loki impale a somewhat familiar agent on his spear. Agent Coulson, I believe.

As I watch him fall to the ground, I can't claim to feel any sort of remorse or pity. Perhaps it's because I'm still a monster. But I don't care.

It's the simplest concept of revenge, really. SHIELD kills one of Loki's men, Loki kills one of SHIELD's men. I don't know what I felt about Jared, but either way, his death has been avenged.

I briefly acknowledge Loki. "Mr. Mischief."

"Abby," he returns. "I expect you're here for a lift?"

I nod. "Indeed, I am."

He doesn't answer, but presses a button on the control panel that opens the floor beneath the cell. He maintains eye-contact with Thor.

"Loki, what are you doing?" I warily inquire.

"Never mind," is his only response. He pushes a button that sends the cell, and Thor with it, falling to oblivion.

My eyes widen, and I cover my moth with my hands. He couldn't have. He couldn't kill his own brother, especially not Thor: the nicest person alive. "How could you?" I gasp.

Evidently, he doesn't feel the need to answer me, and turns to leave.

Until Agent Coulson speaks up. "You're going to lose," he breathes out. "It's in your nature."

Loki seems amused. "Your heroes are scattered. Your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?"

"You lack conviction," Coulson chokes.

Now irritated, Loki keeps talking. "I don't think I—" But he doesn't get to finish his sentence, because Coulson fires the rather impressive looking weapon he has been holding at Loki, sending the Asgardian flying back through a number of walls.

I glance briefly at Coulson, who only stares back at me with glossed-over eyes. He's still alive, barely. He'll be gone soon enough. But he's just staring at me. It's making me feel uncomfortable. So I follow Loki.

I help him get up, surprised that he shows little sign of injury at all. Actually no sign. Strange.

"Okay," I begin. "Don't be caught doing a monologue."

He rolls his eyes and begins to stagger away. So, I guess he is a little hurt. Good.

"You killed your brother," I call after him.

He shakes his head and chuckles. "If only…"

Alright, that's enough to make me mad. "No, no, no. You're not listening to me! You killed your _brother!_ You murdered your _family!_"

Loki spins around. "He's no family of mine! Family is a sentiment, a setback! What's the point of it, save to feel accepted?" He turns back around. "Now, come along. You're not here to blubber at everything you don't like."

I laugh. "Do you really think I'm going to board a plane with a crazed Elsa? …Again? "

"You misunderstand. That wasn't a request."

I open my mouth to speak before recognizing that I have no argument. I am a debtor. Debts demand to be paid.

I need to be wiser about choosing friends. I usually end up hanging with really weird people. Or in this case, psychopaths.

He leads me up to the deck, where a jet awaits. I follow Loki inside and take my seat.

I don't care where we're going. I just care that this thing ends.

I don't speak for the entire flight. I just think. And trust me, there is lots to think about.

I'm headed straight for the middle of the war, the prisoner of a friend whose side I am against. That makes really no sense at all.

Who survived the attack on the helicarrier? I pray that Steve and Nat did. As far as other SHIELD agents, I could care less. After all of that trauma, I'm still a terrible person. I've gotta work on that.

I look across the jet at Loki. He's deluded. He's a murder. And yet, I'm still his friend. Maybe I just can't stand to have such short-lived friendships. Maybe I understand what he's been through. But I cannot easily overlook someone willfully destroying their own brother, adopted or no.

We arrive on the landing strip of Stark Tower. Something tells me that I should've seen this location coming, but it doesn't matter now.

"So, this is where your masterful plan comes into play?" I question.

"As a matter of fact…" Loki responds.

Nodding, I begin to walk inside.

"What are you doing?" Loki suddenly snaps.

I furrow my eyebrows and stare at him. "Um, I'm going inside."

He shakes his head and leads me back to the plane. "I have other plans."

"I don't like the sound of that."

He rolls his eyes and gestures to the pilot. "Just do as he says and don't question. His orders are mine."

"Wha—" I begin. But Loki walks out of the plane, ignoring me entirely.

The hatch shuts and I feel the plane begin to descend. The hatch opens only a few moments later to reveal a medium sized platform. It looks to be… the 'A' in Stark…?

"Step on, ma'am," the pilot says.

"Excuse me?" I call over the roar of the engines.

"You're providing a distraction for the Avengers. Please step on the 'A'."

Oh, so this is why he needed me in the first place! Oh, that makes me so mad.

I gulp and step on to the platform which seems to shrink. The plane leaves, leaving me stranded. I stare down at the ground which is hundreds of feet below me. I could fall to my death at any moment.

And this is where I will sit as the war will rage all around me.


	26. Pawns Turned to Queens

I'm in fetal position, breathing heavily, trying not to scream. The wind is whipping around me. I feel like if I move just one inch, I'll plummet to my death.

Take a deep breath in, Abby. You're fine. You're here for a reason. If Loki thought you'd be a distraction to the Avengers, he must think they'll save you.

I hear Tony Stark (well, Iron Man) land on the tower. Who knows what's going on there? I hate all this uncertainty.

Nothing happens for a good long while. This allows me to think about my role in this war. A distraction. A pawn. I always knew I was nothing important to Loki's cause. I'm not bright. I'm not athletic. But I am a civilian. I suppose that's the advantage to keeping me around.

But I've always been against Loki. Against what he stands for, against what he's trying to do. There was a time I was even against him in general. I don't want him dead now. I just want him to lose. So, Abby, this is chess. And even pawns can be promoted to queens.

What can I do? I'm stuck on this platform. No way to help. No way out except down, and there's no way…

Down. If I jump, there is no distraction. I could save the Avengers time and energy. Maybe what I could do would even cost Loki the battle.

I slowly stand up, evaluating this new idea. It's a long way down. It would hurt. I would never see my family again.

I have to admit, it would be a dramatic death. People might even remember me. Probably not.

I put one foot over the edge. Could I do it?

The sound of shattering glass interrupts. Tony Stark falls past me. I don't even have time to process this before he flies back up as Iron Man. Totally ignoring me. Good.

Okay, now this time, it's for real. I don't think about it. I just jump. It's funny how when you're falling, everything seems to go slower, and you feel like you have more time to think than you've had in your whole life. I see my life flash before my eyes. My life is my family. Mom, Dad, Renée, Gail, Bobby. I'll miss them.

I close my eyes and brace myself for the pain of the pavement, when something catches me. Or rather, someone. Iron Man.

"Not so fast, Princess Leia," he says. I have to admit, I'm relieved. Also frustrated.

"You should've let me die!" I scream. "Protecting me is just another problem for you!"

Then, the impossible happens. A black hole opens in the sky, and alien invaders begin to pour out of it.

Stark sets me down on the ground. "Sorry, I don't have time for this. I highly suggest you run."

"Don't have to tell me twice." I sprint as far away from the scene of the invasion as I can. People everywhere are staring up at the sky, getting out of cabs just to see. I just run past them.

Then I hear the explosions. They come right behind me, missing me by only a few yards. If I look for the source, I'll be killed, I'm sure. Be that as it may, I can guess that it comes from these aliens.

Plow forward, Abby. Breathe. Run. Never mind gunshots. People die all the time. Never mind explosions. This is a battle. You're a civilian. Survive. Move. Escape. See the end. Keep running. Breathe.

I'm able to decide what their name must be. It must come from when I experienced Loki's torture, though I've tried hard to forget it. They are called the Chitauri. What can I do against them?

Nothing. I can't fight. However, I can help the people. I'm more prepared. I expected an alien attack, where these people up to a few minutes ago, may not have even believed in their existence.

I spot a group of people by a café. That's who I'll help first.

"Get inside!" I scream at them as I approach. "They'll kill anything they can see moving!" People don't seem to question that statement and obey immediately.

I run on. Everyone by a door is getting inside. The people on bridges, however, well… they're having a harder time. So, I work on getting up there.

I get there, and a few people automatically rush to me, gasping "Help us. Please, please, help." I can't understand it. I'm just the same as everyone else. Except for my SHIELD outfit, that I have to admit, makes me look pretty intelligent about all this. Okay, I get it.

"Abby," a familiar voice croaks. I look around for the source of it, and my eyes land on a familiar old loiterer.

"Alfred?"

"What's going on? Where have you been?" he inquires.

"It doesn't matter. Let's get you safe." I turn to the crowd of about ten people. "Alright, listen up, everybody!" I address. "Follow me, and be sure to draw as little attention to yourself as possible."

I start to lead my group of about ten off the bridge, when a plane lands in front of me. Steve, Natasha, and a guy I recognize as Clint Barton walk out.

"Abby? What are you doing here?" Steve asks, bewildered.

"I'm hailing a cab. There's one. Oh, no, wait. It's on fire," I announce sarcastically. "I'm helping, Steven."

Evidently, he notices the crowd behind me. He looks back at me as though questioning that these people are following me. I nod, confirming.

Clint steps forward, gun in hand. "Can you shoot this?"

"You bet," I answer. As far as I can gather, Loki's little spell on Clint has come to an end.

"Then take it and keep these people safe," he commands. I follow his order. He and Natasha run ahead.

"Keep yourself safe, too," Steve orders.

"I'll try, Steve." I can't keep these people in one place any longer. I run off with them in tow.

I take in my surroundings. Everything is on fire, collapsed, or simply not suitable for shelter. My group is freaking out. I would be, too. In fact, I can't say that I'm not. I'm just better at hiding it.

"You can help us, right?" The question comes from a boy about thirteen years old. "I mean, aren't you brave enough to work with Captain America?"

I hesitate. Not really, is the answer. But if I say that, I lose these people's trust.

"Son," Alfred answers, stepping forward. "This young lady is just about the bravest one you'll ever meet. At the tragedy of the Comic-con, she was the only one to stand up to Loki, and the day after that she was in the subway going to work. Is she brave enough to work with Captain America? She saved Captain America's life."

Wait a second. The subway… I can see the entry to a station not far from here. They could hide down there… "Everyone, get in the subway station!" A giant Chitauri whale-thing comes from the black hole. It's possibly the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life. Fortunately, I've come to understand that I don't have time to be scared. "Now would be good," I inform.

I follow the group down to the station, where a few others who had the same idea are hiding.

Loud thuds come from above, and the whole station trembles, but stays intact. Thank everything merciful.

We can still hear what's going on aboveground. From somewhere, a roar that could only be the Hulk's comes. But there are worse sounds. People screaming, people dying at the hands of the Chitauri. And I owe a debt to their commander.

What's that idiot getting himself into now? Undoubtedly stupid things that get stupid people like him killed. I don't want him dead now. I just want him to lose. And if I was doing the honorable thing, I would do what my debt commands. I would save his life.

"Stay here. Stay safe," I command the people.

"What are you going to do?" Alfred asks.

"Me? I'm going to go repay my debt."


	27. The Heat of the Battle

My brother loves to play video games. Frankly, I'm rather fond of them myself. We used to play some pretty intense games together. I mean, we played everything from zombie apocalypse to _Mission: Impossible_ to whatever.

Yeah, I've decided that walking back into this battle is nothing like that. There will be no "Game Over: Try Again?" My defense is limited. I am human, and if I'm dead, I'm dead.

But the thing is, in the past few hours, I've already come so close to death so many times. If I can survive all those times it either means I'm extremely lucky, or I've got a lot of willpower to survive. I'm not about to let a few pathetic alien soldiers kill me. Doesn't mean there isn't any fear of it, though.

Alright, so I'm going to pull apart the situation like a video game. The goal is to get to Loki who is presumably at Stark Tower. The checkpoint is where I last saw Steve. I can get to Stark Tower from there. I'll get bonus points for taking down as many Chitauri as I can. Simple enough.

Racing past people getting attacked and hurt and killed is impossible. I'm witnessing far too much death in just a few minutes. I estimate that I only have about twenty rounds in the gun. If I can hit and kill every time I shoot, I would only be able to kill twenty Chitauri. That's not that many. But if I can save a few people, it's worth it.

Here's a tip, kids: if you don't practice, you get rusty. I'm not able to kill the majority of the Chitauri. I hit a few, slowing them down, but if I get in a fatal shot, it's pure luck.

By the time I get to Steve, I'm out of rounds. Meaning the only person I've been able to help is myself. While I was busy dodging enemy attacks, I watched as innocent men, women, and children were ripped to shreds by the Chitauri. And I mean to save the life of the enemy leader. Debts are a nasty business. I don't recommend them.

"Hey, Steve," I greet as casually as possible under the circumstances.

"Abby!" Steve exclaims, knocking off the head of a Chitauri with his shield. "I thought you were hiding!"

I narrowly miss an enemy's fire at me. "Well! I'm not! I had to help!" I leave out the fact that my goal is to help the maniac behind all this

"Do you have any sort of weapon?" he hollers back at me.

I'm about to answer no, when a shining metal piece catches my eye. Now, there's scrap everywhere, but this is different. It radiates power. I run to it and snatch it up as quickly as I can.

It's a sword. That in itself is confusing. The Chitauri I've seen fight with their own type of gun. Then, out of nowhere, a sword appears. No time to question.

"Yeah, I have something!" I announce to Steve.

He glances back at me briefly and furrows his eyebrows. "Do you know how to use that thing?"

"No!" I admit. I had better learn to use it quickly. It's heavy, but balanced. If I can just figure out how to swing it right.

A Chitauri charges me and I'm able to lop its head off. Unfortunately, it's very sharp, slices straight through the skin and bone of its neck. And the blade comes in contact with my arm. It slices my arm, but the wound isn't very deep. Two things are for sure, though. One, it stings. Hurts very much, indeed. Two, I need to be more careful.

As enemies get close I attack as best I can. There are risks to every method. If I'm not careful, everything I do will come back to bite me. Unfortunately, I learn this the hard way. I have wounds all over me, and some (if not most) of them are the result of my clumsy swordsmanship.

They come by the dozens. Whoever said that there was strength in numbers knew what they were talking about. Every time a Chitauri is killed, another one takes its place. It's like a nightmare.

"You're doing good!" Steve says in the midst of everything. Encouraging, I'll admit.

"To be honest, I'm surprised I'm not dead yet!" I state as I block the attack of an enemy.

"Just keep it up! You'll be fine! And when this is over, we'll go get coffee again!"

"Like a date?" Normally, I would not have said something stupid like this. Not to a guy I see as a brother.

"Yeah, like a date. Unless, that's not what-"

"You're asking this now? Do you usually ask girls out in the middle of a crisis?" I interrupt, bewildered.

"It's a bad habit of mine!"

I laugh. "Okay! Sure! Why not?" I feel like I'm most likely going to die or something, so does it really matter?

I've almost forgotten my main purpose. I have a job to do, and I'm not doing it. I have to go.

"Steve, I have to go!"

"What?" he exclaims.

"Something's come up. I have to leave. Right now. Immediately. I'm sorry. Stay safe!" I begin to run off.

I can still here Steve calling after me. "Me? What about you? Abby!" And I honestly feel terrible.

I find that being quick about getting to Stark Tower and cutting down every alien in my path is the best way to go about this. I know. I know. That plan was masterfully thought out. You're probably blown away by how genius it is. (Mercy, I'm stupid.)

I can't stop running, or I'll be killed. I've survived so far, but I pass others who haven't been so lucky. Their grave is the street, and I'll never get their lifeless faces out of my head. This has to end, soon.

I'll convince Loki to end it somehow. (Holding a sword to someone's throat is convincing enough, right? Only if push comes to shove, of course.)

I make it to Stark Tower alive, which is definitely good. I didn't expect to make it this far. It explains why I am unprepared for what's inside the tower.

The place has been absolutely infested by Chitauri. They're holding several people captive. This situation could not be less convenient. Of course I couldn't just walk right through the door! What was I thinking? It would've been too easy.

So, what is it? It's me and a sword that I can't properly use against an entire squadron of enemy aliens with scary laser guns and hostages. This is clearly just a little bit above my skills of combat or negotiation.

Think, Abby, think. Would there be any sort of alternative entrance? A back door, maybe. Or a sky-deck. Be logical. Do something smart.

"Hey!" I yell, running in the door. "Hey, you big, ugly maggots! Come kill me!"

Then I continue running. Granted, I'm running _away_ from Stark Tower, but at least I got them out of the building.

It's a good thing I'm faster than they are. Otherwise, I would literally be dead in three seconds. A few quick turns around various corners and I've lost them. Unfortunately, I've also lost me. Typical.

I'm in an alley. I have no idea where I am, and the whole place has a cryptic feel to it. It reminds me of torture. All those bugs crawling up, down, and inside my skin. There's an abundance of spider webs. Actually, a forest of them. I have to cut through them. It's disgusting, and it really doesn't help make the place more comfortable.

All it takes is one misstep and I've activated a trap. I'm ripped off the ground and into the air by my right ankle and hung upside down. It hurts.

This is it. This is that one creepy scene from _The Hobbit_ with the giant spiders. I'm about to be eaten alive, I know it. I try to hold back the screams that are forming in my throat. I wouldn't want to alert the beast to my presence any further.

That's when I hear a teenaged-sounding guy speak next to me. "Yikes. Sorry, I didn't mean to catch any humans."


	28. Surfing the Web

"Where are you?" I ask, frantically.

"It's okay. I'm right behind you. Stay still so I can get you down," the guy commands. I hear a snap and I fall into a net of web.

I regain my footing and quickly grab my sword. "Show yourself!" I demand, mainly out of curiosity and the desire to seem cool.

"Okay," he replies casually. A humanoid creature wearing a red and blue suit lowers himself upside down on a web like some sort of freaky Cirque du Soleil trapeze artist. It's not very comforting.

"Who are you? No, wait, what are you?" I cautiously inquire.

"Human, if you're worried about that," the Circus-boy sighs.

"I wasn't particularly worried," I lie. "I was just making sure you weren't some crazy-looking Chitauri."

"A what now?" Web-head interrogates.

"You should mind your own business," I return.

"Oh, okay."

"But since you asked, you may have noticed that there are aliens running rampant through the streets. Those are the Chitauri."

Spandex sets himself upright on the ground. "Wait a second. You know about the aliens? What they are?"

I shrug. "More than some. So what's with the webs?"

"You should mind your own business."

I stare at him incredulously. "Are you kidding? I just told you information I haven't told my own mother. I may look like it, but I'm not with the government, c'mon."

The Amazing Flying Trapeze sighs. "Okay, okay. The thing with the webs is that I'm Spiderman."

I wait for him to say anything else. He doesn't, as though that fact in itself is meant to be impressive. "Okay, well then. Spiderman, it is. So, what? You're like a super hero?"

Spiderman spreads his palms. "Yeah, sure, I'm a super hero. I swing on webs. I help people."

I nod slowly. "It's a good business. I know a few superheroes. They're respectable people."

Spiderman laughs. "Tell that to the police department."

"So your power is…?"

"I shoot the webs, man," he announces like it's obvious, gesturing around at the ridiculous amount of webs. "This stuff doesn't just appear, y'know?"

"How strong are the webs?" I question. An idea is forming in my mind, albeit an insane one.

"Really strong," he informs. "I once hung a car off a bridge with a single strand."

I cross my arms. "Uh-huh. Cool story, bro. Listen, if you're in the business of helping people, then I need your help. I have an idea it will help both of us."

Spiderman crosses his arms. "An idea, huh? When was the last time you had one of those?"

"Hey," I snap. "We have known each other for less than five minutes. I could be rather clever all the time. You would never know. Furthermore, you don't know my name. You don't get to throw shade at me."

"Whatever. Let's hear your plan."

"All I need you to do is get me to the sky-deck on Stark Tower. In return, I'll throw in a good word with the government. I may not be with them, but I have connections. Did you know that you can be paid for heroics?"

He puts up his hands defensively. "Wait a minute. So, my motivation for this whole thing is money?"

I pause. "Yes."

"I like it. But why should I go when it could be a trap? Like you said, I don't even know your name."

"Because I said so, that's why. And if you must know, it's Abby. My last name is classified."

"Fine, Abby Classified. One piggyback ride to Stark Tower."

"Don't make it weird," I mumble as I get on his back, piggyback style.

I will take this time to warn you that putting your trust in a single strand of spider web is nerve-racking and not recommended for the faint of heart. Also, if you have the ability to crawl on walls, and you mean to take advantage of this ability when someone is on your back, please let them know as soon as is convenient. Luckily, I have enough self-composure to not scream too much.

But let me tell you something, once you get over the initial fear, it's like flying. I know that may sound stupid and cliché, but it's true. I mean, this guy could literally make a business out of this. "Web Tours of New York City." I'd pay.

Then we're back to a wave of oncoming invaders. I can tell it's difficult for him to dodge them all. It's difficult to hang on to both him and my sword. I can feel enemy fire just barely missing me. Sometimes it actually grazes me, leaving injuries all over.

But we're able to land on the sky-deck properly. No Chitauri seem to be landing here so we're in the clear.

"Holy mercy, that was amazing!" I laugh.

"I know," Spiderman responds. "And I get to do it every day."

"Ugh, you're so lucky. But like in those moments before you shoot the web and you're just like free-falling? It's just so…" I gesture elaborately with my hands, as that feeling is literally beyond words.

"Yeah, that is the best part. Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but why are we here?"

"Oh, right." With everything going on, I almost completely forgot about Loki. Mercy, I'm a terrible friend. In my defense, it's hard not to be distracted when you're nearly flying over NYC. I look around, trying to find Loki. There's a large dent in the floor. It could contain a person. That couldn't possibly be…

I hurry over and find that it is, in fact, my very own idiot. He looks like he got the wind knocked out of him.

"Okay, so I have a lot of questions," I begin. "The first of which is 'What?'"

"Just give me a hand," he chokes out.

"As you wish, your Royal highness," I mutter as I help him to his feet.

Spiderman walks over. I thought he might've left. "So, this is the reason I risked my life? So you could rescue your boyfriend?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I have a boyfriend and this is not him."

"And who might you be?" Loki questions, regarding Spidey cautiously.

"I'm the reason Abby's here, green bean. You're welcome." Green bean… That's a good one.

I turn to Loki. "How badly are you hurt?"

Sighing, he responds, "Pretty badly, but I'll heal."

I nod. "Oh, good." I slap him across the face. "Who in their right mind leaves their best friend stranded on—not in, on—a tower in the middle of a bloody war?! Are you insane? You could've killed me!"

"My apologies."

I roll my eyes. "I really don't need your sarcasm, right now."

"I'm quite serious. I truly am sorry."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. "Well, that's not like you. You don't apologize, not usually." While I'm saying it, I notice something peculiar. Loki's eye color has changed. In place of the blue I'm familiar with is a foreign green.

"Well," Spidey interrupts, "I should head off."

I turn to face Spidey. "Alright, if you say so. And what should I tell the government?"

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

I cross my arms. "Why don't I just say that Spiderman is out there awaiting their approval?"

"That could work," Spidey agrees, nodding. "Why don't you give me your number in case it doesn't?"

"I don't have a pen," I point out.

"I have a good memory."

I shrug and recite my number, not truly believing he'll remember it. That's a shame, though. He seemed like a kid I could get along with.

Spidey makes his goodbyes and swings off.

"How are things going out there?" Loki inquires.

I smile. "Not good for you. We might actually win."

Loki sighs in relief. "Good."

I'm taken aback. He's not himself at all. He seems far too soft. It's actually worrying me. "Wait, I thought it was your greatest ambition to become emperor of the entire world including me."

"It was, but…" Loki's sentence hangs there, unfinished, and he seems to be looking behind me.

I turn around to see all of the Avengers. I recognize for the first time that the sounds of enemies outside have stopped. The battle has been won.

"If it's all the same to you," Loki says, resigning completely, "I'll have that drink now."


	29. Only the Beginning

SHIELD sends us a jet to fly back to the helicarrier in. I hold on tight to my sword, studying it as we fly. The hilt is strange-looking. There's a skull carved at the top and tentacles wrapping around it. It could be radioactive for all I know, but it seems wrong to let go of something that has saved my life. I would be dead without it, and I'm not giving it up quite that easily.

Everyone is being silent, especially Loki, which really irks me. It's rather uncharacteristic of him to not have some irritating comment or genius backup plan. He looks like he's been beaten, which he has, and I'm glad, but it's not like him at all. I could do with a laugh from him or something like that to lighten the mood.

"Are you ok, Abby?" Steve finally asks me.

"Yeah, of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason, it just looks like you're about to rip your fingernails off with your teeth." I take my hands away from my mouth. Odd, I'm not a known nail-biter. "Abby, it's going to be alright," Steve assures me. "I'll make sure Fury lets you go."

Well, that wasn't what I had been thinking about, but now that he's brought it up, I might as well worry about it. Fury would be totally justified in sending me to some prison in who-knows-where. I broke the law, after all. Needless to say, I don't want to go. What was I thinking, boarding this jet? I've thrown myself into a death trap.

When the jet lands on the helicarrier deck, it's all I can do to keep lunch in my stomach. I'm a mess right now, a jumbled heap composed of one half anxiety and another half headaches. Here she is, the queen in all her glory, about to hurl into the ocean.

Loki is immediately handcuffed, gagged, and escorted to a cell. He didn't even put up a fight. It's truly unnerving. It seems like the real him is dead. It's like he's not even there.

Straight to the control room is where we go. I feel rather out of place in the midst of Avengers. After all, what did they do? They saved the world. What about me? I ran to the rescue of the man that was trying to destroy it.

I have no right to be here. This feeling—this knowledge, rather—is especially prominent when Fury walks in, an agent following him, with nothing but praises for his Avengers. I've never seen him in such a good mood.

I'm starting to wonder if he even realizes I'm here. That is, until he says, "Now, there's the matter of Abby Brandon."

I glance over at Natasha who is staring daggers at me. It's like she hopes I get the death sentence and is more than willing to be the executioner.

Stark, surprisingly, is the first to speak up. "Really? That's your next concern? I, personally, am not going to wait around while you decide what to do about her. There's shawarma to be eaten." I mean, the argument is about food, but I guess it's appreciated.

Steve (the only person I thought might say something in my defense) adds to it. "Let her go, Fury," he rather boldly demands. "She fought as bravely as the rest of us and rescued a group of civilians. I say she's earned her freedom."

Fury stares blankly at Steve. "And what would you say if I decided to keep her in custody?"

"I would say your being ridiculous! What harm is she really? Just let her go home!" There, someone said it.

Fury speaks again. I catch a hint of amusement in his voice. "Let who go home? In fact, who is Abby Brandon? Agent Hill, do we have record of an Abby Brandon?"

"None, sir," the agent who followed Fury in announces.

I'm having trouble believing what I'm hearing. "You're serious," I can't help but blurt out.

"I'm serious."

"I can go?"

"You can go."

I'm free. Free from any fear of SHIELD. Free to go home. And yet, not free from my debt. I can't leave with a good conscience without getting Loki's 'ok.' I hate that, but it's a funny way my mind works.

Fury dismisses us, but not before taking my sword away and having a good look at it, a look of worry spreading over his face.

On the way out of the control room, Steve makes sure I'm invited to have some shawarma. "Yeah, sure Princess Leia can join us," Stark declares. "If she pays for her own." Rather selfish considering he broke down my door and is a billionaire. Oh well, I expected nothing more.

"Y'know, I think I'll have something back at home."

"You're leaving today?" Steve inquires, sounding a little disappointed.

"I hope so," I admit. "But if Loki says I can't, I can't. That's just the way things are." A realization sweeps over me. "And I'm probably not even going to be able to get in to see him."

"Sure, you will," Steve assures me. "I can make it happen."

"Evidently, you can make anything happen. I doubt Fury would've let me go if you hadn't stepped in."

Steve smiles, but shakes his head. "It was the right thing to do. I think Director Fury knows that."

"Well, thank you all the same."

"Hey, are we still on for coffee?" Steve inquires.

Oh, I hadn't thought about that. "Sure, but I'm not sure how it's going to work with my being in Texas and all."

"I'll pick you up in a jet."

I cross my arms. "Impressive."

"I thought so," Steve admits with a smirk.

"Don't get a big head. I don't know if I'm even going home yet."

"Well," Steve hands me an access card for the cell Loki's in. "You had better go find out."

Ironically, Loki's cell is one I'm familiar with. You guessed it, this is the cell I sat in for a week. "Wow," I announce, walking in. "I forgot how great this place wasn't."

"Abby, come in," Loki invites. "I was in need of a reminder of how irritating your company is."

"Aw, I'm glad we're friends, too."

Loki rolls his eyes. That's more like him. "Well, spit it out. What do you need this time?"

"Why do you just assume that I came to ask something? Maybe I came to say goodbye. I am leaving after all."

"And by that you mean that you came to ask if you _can_ leave." Why am I so transparent?

"Well, yes," I admit. "But don't think for a second that I'll never want to talk to you for any reason other than requests. We're friends after all. I may not act like it, but I care."

"I know you're trying to persuade me to let you return home. There's no need. You are free to go at any time you choose. Not forgetting your debt, of course."

I feel bad. Terrible, actually. Am I really so cold that I can't even convince him that we're friends?

But he's let me go. Can I really complain? "Thank you."

"Don't. I'm only doing it because I can't exactly drag you along to Asgard, can I?"

"You're going to Asgard?" I question.

Loki sighs. "For a trial, in which I will be convicted, and…"

He's starting to worry me. "And what? They wouldn't execute you, would they?" Loki doesn't say a word. "Loki, answer me!"

"You shouldn't concern yourself with it."

So, they would. "Like it or not, I am going to concern myself with it! There's got to be something you or I could do."

"I'm not going to talk about it," Loki insists. "Go home. I've a feeling you've been away from your family too long."

I can't argue. I can only do something I never thought I would do. I hug Loki. Granted it's awkward, but it's like he hasn't had a hug in a long time. "Take care of yourself," I mutter.

A while later, I'm on a SHIELD-provided jet, heading to Texas. It lands at an airport in my home city. Next thing I know, I'm walking home, taking in familiar sights. I feel like laughing and crying and dancing and shouting all at the same time.

Then I'm in front of my house. I open the door, which I knew would be unlocked. I breathe in the scent of my house, exactly as I recall it.

"Mom?"

**NOT THE END. However, End Book 1. Book 2 will be published here. Don't worry about having to go on my profile. It should be up soon. 'Til next time, TARDIS-elf**


	30. Domestic Life

I've always been sort of dramatic, but some things are bound to change. A year ago, I was thrown into a world of secret agents and aliens that I thought only existed in movies. I've almost died. I've seen countless people killed. That's enough for anyone to change their perspective on drama just a little bit.

Moving back to Texas has been a joy. My family welcomed me back with open arms and more than a few tears. I haven't told them about my debt or any of the circumstances surrounding it. There's no need for more stress.

The Battle of New York did not leave us un-effected. My apartment complex was destroyed, and with it, everything I brought to New York. My mother was laid off due to budget cuts in the company, whose headquarters are in New York. The whole country was in a state of shock and chaos. It was enough noise to wake my dad right up.

Dad is in physical therapy now. He's not well enough to do much at all. In fact, he's still in the hospital. I took on a job as a fifth-grade history teacher to keep everything running smoothly. It's taking a while, but things are falling back into place.

And, yes, I know what the big question is. Did I ever go out with Steve Well, duh. After all, I am a woman of my word. We're "together" or whatever you want to call it. He comes down from DC every month. That may seem like a lot of effort for a date. Well, it is, and it doesn't go unappreciated. He's a great person, or at least my family seems to think so.

My mother is pretty much in love with him. She keeps going on about how lucky I am to have met such a nice guy. Gail and Renée are always asking about him in the most obvious way possible. It's like they're all just holding their breath until he proposes. It's ridiculous. Furthermore, I don't think it's that serious.

Unbeknownst to them, I have other things to concern myself with. I haven't heard from Loki since I last saw him. I am still in debt and every second that goes by makes it harder to repay. I know that the average person would be thrilled to have gone a year without seeing him, but it would be a major comfort to know that Asgard hasn't executed him or worse. If he dies, and I haven't even made an effort to help him, I'll never forgive myself. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.

If I was honest with myself, I would admit that I miss him. He was my friend after all. Is. He is my friend. He's the closest friend I have. And he's not past tense yet. Not to me, anyway.

But I should put it aside. The school day is over, and I'm headed home. I try not to think about Loki there. If my mother knew, she would have a heart-attack and die. If something should slip out, I'm doomed.

"I'm home, Mom!" I call across the house as I kick off my shoes.

"Come into the kitchen!" she calls back.

I roll my eyes. "Mom, I've got papers to grade!"

"They can wait!" she snaps. Okay, Mom, wow. Kitchen it is.

"I hope this is important, because I can already feel myself losing sleep over those papers," I announce, setting my work down.

"You can judge for yourself how important it is," a familiar voice answers from the kitchen. Steve.

I walk into the kitchen to see him. "Steve! Hi!" I greet, hugging him hello. "I didn't think you would be here until next week."

"Well, I hope I'm not intruding," he responds.

My mother answers before I can. "Not at all," she assures. "We're always glad to have you." Steve smiles and nods his thanks.

My sister Gail walks in with this smirk on her face like she's about to cause trouble. Well, she's always about to cause trouble, but more trouble than usual. No doubt she has a genius idea to put me in an awkward situation.

"I have an idea for the two of you," she announces. Of course, she does. "Abby, you could go on your dream date: an all-day _Lord of the Rings_ marathon including _The Hobbit_." She had this idea for my last boyfriend, too. She scared him off with this idea. He was weak, but the point is that date is reserved.

"Oh, wow. I don't know, Gail."

"Wait," Steve interrupts. "What is _Lord of the Rings_? What's a hobbit?"

Gail gawks at him. "How can you not know what that is?"

I have to cut this short before she goes on a rant longer than both trilogies combined. "Long story, but listen. I can't do that tomorrow. I've got a lot of stuff to grade, and I've got to visit Dad and plan the next lesson. I don't have time for an eighteen-hour marathon. But dinner's on the table. I mean… Going out tomorrow is an option."

Steve nods slowly. "Alright, tomorrow, then."

"In the meantime," Mom interrupts. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner. It's almost ready."

"Great!" I exclaim, hesitating only briefly. "I'll go get Renée and Bobby." With that excuse, I head up the stairs to find the two in Bobby's room, playing the almighty Minecraft. "Hey, guys. Mom says it's almost time to eat."

"Okay," Renée mutters her answer, keeping her eyes glued on the screen.

I wait a few more moments. "Did you guys even know that Steve is here?"

Renée perks up immediately while Bobby slumps down. They both have different feelings towards Steve. Ironically, Bobby in a way dislikes Steve. I thought they were sort of alike, too. Honestly, I still do.

"I did not actually know that," Renée admits. "But now that I do, I shall be right down." She throws her controller down and exits the room.

"C'mon, Bob," I call. "The food is waiting."

Bobby glances at me briefly. "Are you guys in a serious relationship?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "Um… no."

"Good. I don't think you like him enough."

Very outspoken, my dear little Robert is. "I like him," I defend.

"Yeah, but you don't really, really like him," he points out. "I'm not saying you should break up with him. I'm just saying, I think he notices. And if you don't really, really like him, then I don't have to."

I dig through my mind, trying to think of something else to say. Nothing comes up. "It's time to eat, Robert. Let's get downstairs."

It is the most awkward dinner ever. After that brief, and yet very honest, conversation with Bobby, I have a lot to think about. Of course I really, really like Steve! He didn't know what he was saying. But if I'm acting indifferent, and even my baby brother notices, something must be off. Luckily, the food is good and distracts me from my problems.

"Alright," my mom announces when dinner is over. "If you kids go get cleaned up really fast, you can turn on a movie."

"Yes! What movie?" Gail asks.

"Let Steve pick," Mom orders.

"Oh, I don't think I could. What should I pick, Abby?"

Yikes, I wish he wouldn't have asked. "Oh, they know the good movies. I was going to go visit my dad, so I can't…"

Steve nods. "No problem," he assures. "I'm sure Bob can pick for me."

"Okay. I should go now, then," I state. "I'll be back soon." I head out the door with that promise. It's a short drive to the rehab center, which is convenient as I try to visit Dad every day, but I have to park at a curb nearby and walk the rest of the way.

It's when I pass an alleyway that the familiar feeling of a hand over my mouth returns and I'm being dragged into the shadows. My previous experience with this has taught me to carry pepper spray, which I grab as soon I'm let go.

"You are asking for an unhealthy amount of pepper spray in your precious eyeballs! So, if you dislike pain I suggest you let me go!" I holler as soon as the person removes his hand.

"Abby, calm down," a familiar voice demands. "It's only me." After a year, right as I was getting comfortable, Loki decides to hop back into my life. Typical.


	31. Problems I Could Do Without

The first thing I do is slap Loki's face.

"I can't say I've missed that," Loki sighs.

"You have a lot of nerve, Mr. Mischief," I hiss. "You don't talk to me for a year, I'm starting to think you're dead, and you decide to show your stupid face just when I'm getting settled back into my life! For the love of mercy!"

Loki rolls his eyes. "Well, I apologize for being alive."

"No, I'm glad you're alive. I was worrying about you. Just—" I hug him tightly. "Just don't scare me like that again."

"I won't make any promises."

I pull away. "Yeah, well, what else did I expect from you? Wait a second. Why exactly are you here and not… imprisoned… somewhere… in Asgard?"

"I came to see how you were doing," Loki lies. I can tell he's lying. 1) I have never heard a story so ridiculous in my life. 2) He's acting pleasant. He only acts pleasant when he's lying. 3) He only gave half the fake explanation.

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure, I totally believe that. Listen, I can't even talk right now. I have to check on my dad."

"Isn't that my choice? I may have been gone for a year, but don't believe for an instant I've forgotten your debt."

"Are you done?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Yes."

"Great. I'll pick you up when I'm done visiting my dad," I order. As an afterthought, I add, "Stay out of sight until then."

"Why should I do as you say?" Loki questions.

I return to my path to the hospital. "No time to argue this! Sorry!"

Here's the deal, I really am glad Loki's alive and all, but I really wish he would've let me know _after_ I saw my dad. Now my mind is clouded with anxiety. Why is Loki just suddenly here? Furthermore, how is he going to be able to manage here by himself? He's not. That's the end of it. It's going to be up to me, and I can't work out his stupid problems and hide him from my family at the same time.

I reach my dad's room and knock. His call for me to come in is barely heard from the other side.

"Hey, dad," I greet walking in.

"Hey, squirrel," he responds. For reasons beyond my understanding, he's always called me and my sisters "squirrels."

"Good evening, Mr. Brandon!" The voice that chimes in behind me causes me to jump. I turn around slowly to see Loki smirking at me in childish triumph. That little creep followed me all the way here.

"Who's this?" Dad inquires.

I hesitate. Loki has put me in such an awkward situation. I really do hate him. "Dad, this is my friend… Luke."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Dad interrogates, "What happened to Steve?"

"Um, nothing. Nothing's wrong with Steve. We're still together."

Loki stares at me incredulously. "You are?"

"Yes, don't interrupt. Luke and I work together. He teaches… mythology… and math, because he's boring."

"I am not."

I continue as though I didn't hear him. "And also preschool because he fits in best with small, immature children."

Loki forces a laugh. "You have quite the sense of humor, Abby."

"Yup, Abby has always tried to be the funny one."

"I _am_ the funny one," I insist.

"No, you're the sarcastic and vaguely bitter one," Dad counters.

"You cannot put that label on me until every family has one," I announce.

"My family has one," Loki adds.

I glance sideways at him. "I literally did not ask."

"I'm only saying that Mr. Brandon has a fair point."

"See? Your friend here is backing me up," Dad continues.

They're agreeing on things. They are not supposed to agree on things. "We're not talking about this right now," I snap. "We're talking about you… Dad. How are you?"

Smiling, Dad responds. "I'm feeling great. Doc says I should get out next week."

"Dad, that's great!" I exclaim, ecstatic that Dad is about to be released and relieved that the subject has changed.

"Yeah, I know. So, Luke, where's the accent from?" Dad interrogates.

Loki begins without thinking, which is pretty common, I suppose. "Asg—"

"England," I interrupt, giving Loki a meaningful look. "Lok—Luke is from Cambridge… yeah, Cambridge."

"Can't you let him tell me anything about himself?" Dad asks, accusingly.

"Yes, Abby. Can't you?" Loki adds

I want to scream that no, I cannot. I need to invent a story that is easy for me to keep up. Two people cannot easily form a lie.

Instead of screaming, I decide to make my point—the fact that he knows nothing about earth—rather obvious to Loki. I cross my arms and turn to him. "Alright, Luke, why don't you tell Dad about your life, your time here on this planet?"

He glances sideways at me, clearly picking up my meaning. "I'm afraid my stories are for another time, Mr. Brandon."

"YES, THANK YOU!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air.

Dad stares at me warily. "Are you alright, Abby? You seem stressed. Do you need to go home?"

I glare at Loki. I wouldn't even be in this mess if it weren't for him. "Now that you mention it, Dad, I think I will have to cut this visit a little short."

"It's alright," my dad promises. "Do what you need to do to feel better. Sorry we couldn't talk for longer, Luke."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Brandon." Loki assures him.

I say goodbye to Dad and leave his room, Loki right behind me. When we get away from the door, I whip around to face him. "I'll have you know that that was completely uncalled for, Mr. Mischief. Of all the low, petty things to do, that was the lowest and pettiest."

"Why do you mind so much? It isn't as though I'm summoning armies from the sky to attack your humble town." Loki defends.

"If it was up to me, my family wouldn't have even known you existed outside of the news channels! Now, I have to parade you around with a fake identity and the story that you're a friend from work! What are you even going to do here? Where are you planning on staying?"

"Well, you described your family as such generous people I thought I might intrude upon their hospitality," he announces.

"Oh, no, you don't," I laugh. "No. Steve is staying at my house this weekend. He would recognize you in a second even without your fancy costume."

"In that case, I shall work it out for myself! Don't concern yourself with me. Go home, for all I care. We'll talk again tomorrow."

I hesitate, trying to decide whether to agree or strangle him. I decide on the former. "Fine," I snap. Then I spin on my heel and leave.

This whole situation has opened a new set of problems for me. Somehow, I'm going to have to speed through them before my family or Steve can figure out what's going on. So thanks a lot, Loki. Here's to my chronic predicament.


	32. Oh, How Tables Turn

"Abby? Are you alright?" Steve asks, breaking into my thoughts.

I snap my focus away from thoughts of my predicament and back to Steve. We're out for dinner, after all. I should be entirely concentrated. I smile as brightly as I can manage. "Yes, I'm fine. Of course I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You haven't touched your food," he points out. I glance down at my bowl of pasta. It seems so full next to Steve's almost empty one. I don't have much of an appetite. Stress has done funny things to my desire to eat.

I shrug. "I'm just sort of..." I hesitate. I can't tell him I'm nervous. What kind of questions would that raise? "Not really hungry, I guess."

"Alright, it was just… you seemed sort of stressed so…"

I laugh. "Would you believe my dad said the same thing yesterday?"

Steve furrows his eyebrows. "So, is something eating you?"

Invent a story. Invent a story, fast. "To be honest," I begin not honestly at all. "This kid in my class is giving me a hard time."

Steve leans backward in thought. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear about that. Have they been causing a lot of trouble?"

I hesitate. "A little bit. He keeps thinking I'm supposed to help him with everything. He doesn't understand that there are some things I can't do for him, things that wouldn't be fair to the other students. He's very demanding, very irritating. He distracts me from actually getting on with the lesson. The terrible thing is that I really do like this kid. I think he could do well, but if he's relying on me for every last thing…"

Clearly deep in thought, Steve nods his understanding. He begins cautiously. "What I would do is remind him that he could do well. Give him the tools he needs to learn, and give him your support. Encourage him. Once you tell him he can do well by himself, he's going to want to." Thank God for the omniscient Steve, always ready with great advice.

Before I can respond, my phone rings. It's from a number I don't recognize, but I've got a sneaking suspicion I should answer it. "Hey, sorry, but do you mind if I take this?" I ask Steve.

"Go ahead," Steve answers.

I nod my thanks and head out the door. "Hello?" I say, answering the phone.

"_Abby, it's me_," I hear Loki's voice.

"What? Loki? How did you get a phone?" I question, lowering my voice.

"_Your local law enforcement was very generous_."

My mouth drops open. "You're in jail? You didn't kill anyone did you? Tell me you didn't kill anyone."

"_I haven't killed anyone… yet. I could fight my way out of here if I wanted to. However, I took an educated guess you wouldn't want me to_."

I stare up at the sky in frustration, counting the stars just to keep my pure, righteous anger under control. "Yeah, that's called common sense, idiot."

"_Just get me out. That's not a request_."

"I didn't take it as one," I huff.

"_Hurry up_," he demands before hanging up the phone.

As I said, he is very demanding, very irritating. What am I going to tell Steve? I have to tell him something. I can't just stand him up.

I walk back inside the restaurant, already feeling absolutely weighed down by guilt. "Steve, there's been an emergency. I really hate to leave, but I have to."

Steve stands up. "Is everyone alright?"

I smile faintly. "Everyone is fine. It's just…" I instinctively begin biting my thumbnail. "It's the school. Someone… well, I didn't get all the details, but they need me right away."

"Can I help with anything?" Steve inquires.

"No," I answer a little more quickly than I meant to. "That is, I'm sure I can handle it."

"Alright, if you're sure…"

"I am, but thank you anyway." I smile, trying to cover my lingering guilt.

The trip to the county jail is uncomfortable. I wear a scowl from point A to point B. I'm getting sick and tired of picking up after Loki's messes.

I enter the jail like a mother coming to pick up a kid who's been bad at school. I've seen those mothers a lot. They're always irritated.

The inside of the jail is a near carbon-copy of the county jail in _Andy Griffith_. This is a reminder that I live in a really small town. Loki's sitting in a cell, looking tired and self-righteous, like someone woke him up for no good reason. Though, come to think of it, he always looks like that.

"Hello?" I call to the officer sitting at a desk a few feet away. "I'm sorry, but I got a call from him," I announce, pointing an accusing finger in Loki's direction.

"Okay," the officer responds, flipping through pages on a clipboard. "Here's what he's been up to: he decided it would be fun to take a little nap in the elementary school."

My mouth drops open and I glance at Loki. He's rolling his eyes, like he didn't do anything to make a fuss about. "How did you even get in there?"

"It doesn't matter. Just get me out of here," he demands impatiently.

"He doesn't have any sort of identification," the officer continues.

"Yes, well, he probably left it… somewhere," I explain. "I'm so sorry about all this. He's British."

"What does that have to do with anything?" the officer questions.

"Well, have you ever been to Britain?"

"No."

"That explains it then. Is there a fee or something that I need to pay?"

He tells me the amount due, and luckily I can pay it. In less than five minutes, Loki's free. Regrettably. We both get back in my car as soon as we can.

Before starting the engine, I stare at Loki in disbelief. "What in all the nine realms possessed you to break into my school?"

"Just drive," he answers, leaning against the window like a sulky teenager.

"No, you listen to me. Right here, where you are, you are not a prince. You are not the general of an army. You are a visitor to this realm and you will abide by our rules, or next time you find yourself behind bars, you won't be able to count on me to bail you out, debt or no debt. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal," Loki responds in an arrogant tone. "Though I must say, Abby, I had thought you more honorable than that."

"I can't help you with everything!" I cry. "I know that you're hiding from something here, even though you won't tell me what. If this thing goes on for long, eventually I might not be around to help you. I shudder to think of what would happen to you if I suddenly left you alone to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar realm."

"You don't believe me capable to figure things out on my own?" Loki interrogates furiously.

I hesitate. Once I tell him that he can do well, he's going to want to. "No," I reply, lowering my voice. "I believe you're capable. You are smart, as I'm sure you know, and I have every confidence that you'll work things out. You just need a push in the right direction."

Loki doesn't say anything for a while, and I'm starting to wonder if I should have said anything. Things seem to run more smoothly if we're arguing. Then he speaks up. "So, what's your plan?"

This comes as a surprise. I'm not generally the one making plans. "I'll set you up at a hotel tonight, and once Steve leaves, you can stay with me and my family. That is if you haven't done something else illegal by then."

I can see him working out my plan in his mind. After seemingly finding nothing wrong with it, he sighs, "Very well."


	33. Alias

Situations being what they were, I did not have a lot of time to think my plan through. Now, I know that I have a bad record of coming up with pretty awful plans, plans that have landed me in custody, plans that almost killed my best friend, and plans that have come pretty close to getting me killed. At least this time, I recognize that it's an unbelievably terrible plan.

Furthermore, it is not convenient to have that on the forefront of my mind in the middle of a lesson. I end up stopping mid-sentence to contemplate how dead I am.

"Miss Brandon? Are you okay?" The question comes from Henry Rent at the back of the classroom. We have a history of hating each other from the moment he stepped into class with a shirt that proudly declared "Ball is Life, Bro," and since I started absently humming "Seasons of Love" when I heard his name. If he's asking if I'm okay, I must look pretty bad.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you. Some very stressful things are happening today that's all. I just need a glass of water and then I'll be fine. Why am I telling you this? What was I talking about? Oh, right, um… The peasant's crusade was the first crusade to take place, but it wasn't until four years later that the crusade, dubbed the First Crusade, took place."

"That was last lesson," Henry sighs.

"Okay, thank you Henry Rent, because I definitely asked for that. That was a surprise review, so just chill, okay?"

Then, much to my relief, the bell rings. This is the last class of the day. I'm done. "Class dismissed," I sigh. "No homework."

I follow the kids outside, exhausted and in need of fresh air. So, what's the situation? Steve, the one person I can trust to not freak out when I talk about my debt, is leaving today. My family is meeting Loki today. This was never supposed to happen.

My thoughts are interrupted by the obnoxious honk of a car horn, blaring not that far from me. Its origin is a beat-up, old, pickup truck that could easily win an award for worst paintjob ever to be seen on the road. The driver looks to be a high-school-aged boy who bears an uncanny resemblance to Henry Rent. I determine that he is the boy in questions brother as Henry runs up to the old jalopy. The driver steps out of the car to greet him.

"You're late, pipsqueak," the older boy growls.

"Well, sorry I don't skip classes like you, Mitch," Henry retaliates.

Mitch jabs his finger into Henry's chest. "Listen up. I got places to be, and I don't have time for you—"

I take this opportunity to intervene. "Is there a problem here, boys?"

They both turn to see me. "There's no problem, Brandon," Henry mumbles.

"It's _Miss _Brandon, thank you." I turn my attention to Mitch. "You must be Henry's older brother. Mitch?"

"Yeah," he reluctantly confirms. "Who are you?"

"I'm Henry's history teacher. My name is Abby Brandon," I respond.

"Oh!" Mitch exclaims, giving Henry a smug look. "You're _that _Miss Brandon."

"Shut up, Mitch," Henry mutters.

"Listen, lady," Mitch continues. "We need to get going, so if you'll excuse us…" He begins to walk back to his car, but trips halfway there, spilling the contents of his pockets: about ten fake IDs.

Some teachers would be shocked, others amused. Me? My first thought is, "_You know what would be really helpful if Loki ever got into trouble again?" _

"What have we here, Mr. Rent?" I question, picking up a stack of cards.

"T-They're not mine, I swear," Mitch blatantly lies.

"Oh, no, don't worry. I understand. Tricky little things… always jumping into your pockets when you least expect it. I'll be confiscating these. If you do have a problem with that, I will gladly take it up with your parents. Anyway, I'm sure you have places to be. Get going." I pause. "And, Henry? Don't let him push you around." With those words of wisdom, I leave.

I'm very thoroughly pleased with my luck. Fake IDs are hard to come by. I haven't had one in… ever. I never had one. I was a good kid… Well, I'm still proud of my work. Quick thinking serves one well.

Before going home, I stop at the hotel to show Loki my findings. I race to his room as quickly as I can and knock on the door, brimming with excitement.

"Who is it?" I hear his muffled voice on the other side of the door.

"It's me," I answer. "Open up. I have something to show you."

The door opens to reveal Loki looking bored and irritated, which truthfully have been his constant emotions since he arrived. "What is it now, Abby?" he questions.

"I got you something," I announce. I reach into my purse and pull out the cards, holding them like trophy I want my parents to be proud of.

Loki waits as though expecting something to happen. "That's it?" he finally asks.

"Yep."

"There's nothing else?"

"Nope."

"Well, what are they?" Loki inquires, exasperated.

I furrow my eyebrows. "They're IDs. Well, fake ones. Surely, you must know that."

Loki rolls his eyes. "I apologize that I haven't learned about every miniscule detail of Midgardian culture. Are you going to stand out there all day, or are you coming in?" I shrug and walk into the room, sitting at the table and spreading the cards out on it. "Are you going to tell me what they're for?" Loki questions.

"Basically if you don't have one of these, there are places you can't go and things you can't buy. Wait a second, you don't have any money. That's something you're going to need… I'll give you a little bit to get started and you can get a job or sell things on Etsy or eBay or something. You're going to need this sort of stuff. You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Abby, slow down," Loki instructs. "Let's stick with the matter at hand. I assume I'll only need one of these cards."

"Yeah, just one. Let's see what your choices are." I pick up one of the cards and read the name aloud. "'Benedict Cumberbatch' I think we found a winner."

"I refuse to be called that," Loki immediately snaps. He takes another card. "'Clive Staples Lewis' I think not. Who did you get these from?"

Shrugging, I pick up yet another card. "I got them from a kid who would've gotten in trouble with them. How about Rainbow Rowell?"

"Is that even a name?" he scoffs.

"Somewhere, I suppose," I laugh.

"These are completely unacceptable. You'll have to find something else," he announces.

Shaking my head, I begin to rearrange the cards in no specific order. "There is nothing else. You're just going to have to pick one. Keep in mind that everyone at home is going to call you Luke anyway." I idly grab another one, and read it, though I've lost real interest in them. "Why not Tom Hiddleston?"

Loki pauses briefly and holds his hand out. "Let me see that one."

I raise my eyebrows, but put it in his hand anyway. "Really? You're choosing that one?"

"It's the _least _ridiculous out of all of them," he explains. "I'll keep it."

"Alright, Mr. Hiddleston, that's your choice."

"Don't call me Mr. Hiddleston," he instructs.

I smile just a little bit. "What would you like me to call you? It can't be Loki, but if you're uncomfortable with Luke…"

Loki looks down at his new fake ID. "Call me Loki when you can. You can call me Mr. Mischief any other time."

My phone interrupts the conversation. The caller ID tells me that it's Steve. "I have to take this," I mutter and answer. "Hi, Steven."

_"__Hey, Abby,"_ I hear Steve's voice on the other end. _"I wanted tell you that I'm leaving soon. Did you want to meet me for dinner before I go?"_

"Dinner?" I glance over at Loki who rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, absolutely. Would you mind if we went back to the last place? A redo would be nice."

_"__Same time, same place. Got it. I'll see you there." _

"Alright, I'm looking forward to it. Bye."

"_Bye_," Steve returns. I almost hang up, when Steve stops me. "_Wait, Abby_."

"Yeah?"

"_I love you_."

All of my mental systems shut down immediately, and my throat closes up in panic. I respond with the natural reaction. "I love you, too, Steve. Goodbye." I hang up and pause for a brief moment before grabbing my purse. "I have to go, I'm meeting Steve for dinner," I tell Loki.

"I gathered as much. When did that happen?" he interrogates.

"What? Me and Steve? That's none of your business, Mr. Mischief," I snap. I begin to walk out the door when Loki stops me by grabbing my arm.

"There's a Captain America keychain on your bag," he points out.

"Yes, I'm aware. I put it there. It has a nice aesthetic," I explain. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"That's not all," Loki continues, releasing my arm. "I hope you don't mistake me. I truly appreciate everything you're doing for me, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I can't stay here forever."

"Loki," I begin in a panic. "I—I really don't have time for this. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until tonight." With that, I leave in a hurry.

After I get in my car, all I can do is sit there and think. I knew he couldn't stay forever. Eventually, the lie would catch up. Steve would find out. Something would happen. But though I was worried, terrified even, and still am, some small part of me was looking forward to it. I wouldn't have to wonder where he was and what he was doing. I would have someone I wouldn't have to keep secrets from. And he wants to leave… my best friend.


End file.
